


Harry Potter: Who Am I?

by Cellindaer



Series: Who Am I? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 04:23:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 141,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cellindaer/pseuds/Cellindaer
Summary: After the war, things were supposed to be great. There was supposed to be a fairy tale ending with a wife and kids and the perfect job. But fairy tales are just that and no one goes through a battle like the one Harry Potter just went through without some problems on the other side. Non-epilogue compliant with hinted pairing.





	1. Chapter 1

September 1, 1998

"Harry."

He had heard her voice. But Harry was trying very hard to ignore her.

"Harry! Everyone is looking at you!"

When wasn't everyone looking at him? He was Harry James Potter, after all and in this world, especially on this day, that meant something.

Now, what it meant, Harry wasn't sure at all but everyone else seemed to think it meant something, so Harry went along with it.

Not that he went along with it peacefully, mind you.

"I heard you." Harry said, his words slurring ever so slightly as he rose from his seat on the stage.

Standing before him was a crowd of hundreds, all looking for the wise words of the eighteen year old boy who had saved their lives. It was at that point that Harry noticed the rather pointed look that Professor McGonagall was giving him.

Even when he was a bit drunker than he probably should have been for an event like this, the look that she gave him was just enough to make him want to sober up right then and there.

Too bad he had left all of his Pepper-Up Potions at home.

"Are you drunk?" Hermione asked in shock as she looked at Harry.

"No." Harry said shortly as he turned to the podium. However, just before he got there, he turned back to Hermione. "Well, no more than usual."

The usual amount of drunkenness for Harry Potter these days was exceedingly drunk. You see, when you solve the world's problems at seventeen years of age, you can basically do whatever the hell you want. You can become an Auror without being completely qualified. You can dump your girlfriend through a drunken Howler. You can accidentally blow up a year's supply of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

And for fuck's sake, if you want to keep the ghosts and the voices away at night, you can be day drunk at your own honor ceremony.

Before Harry was able to speak, Professor McGonagall leaned in closer to his ear.

"Mr. Potter, for your sake and mine, I hope you stick to whatever you have written for today."

All Harry did was turn and give her a lopsided smile.

"Who said I had anything written?" Harry replied, a bit too honestly before turning back to the crowd. "Good afternoon. Thank you all for coming to the official reopening of Hogwarts School for Wizardcraft and Witchery. As you all know, on May 2nd of this year, I fought and killed that bastard, Lord Voldemort, right here in this very castle. The damage the castle took was remarkable but through its own magic, it was able to help us as we worked to restore it for the upcoming school year."

So far, so good, right?

"Of course, then some bureaucrat thought it would be a good idea to put a statue up, commemorating those that lost their lives here. That's the reason we're all here today. Not to celebrate the rebirth of education in Britain because that's not enough for us-"

"That's quite enough, Potter." McGonagall snapped in his ear but Harry pressed forward as if he hadn't heard her. With a wave of his wand, he pulled back the cloth on the statue that stood next to him.

It was a white marble statue, the same white marble from which the tomb of Albus Dumbledore was made. The statue was of a faceless child, wand in the air, ready to fight the air in front of it.

Harry thought it was a remarkably stupid thing. While he had previously lectured others about the thought of fighting the unpredictable, fighting nothing was useless. It was a waste of energy and so was this statue.

So was this whole fucking thing.

"No, we're here to celebrate whoever's idea this fucking this was." Harry growled, the bitterness starting to leave his voice. "Written on the base of this statue is the name of every member of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army or Hogwarts in general that died that night. Not that I need the reminder. You see, there's this little known fact about being me: your friends get killed. But it's not a normal death, not at all! Your friends die because of you. Fred Weasley dies under the rubble of half the Entrance Hall, fighting for you. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin die side-by-side, orphaning their only fucking child, so they can fight for your cause. After a lifetime of having people die before your eyes, you get an entire night full of it."

Slowly, Harry realized that the wheels had come off. The mask that Harry had worked hard to keep on in public had broken and, whether it was alcohol induced or not, the entire world now saw him for what he was.

Broken. Defeated. Tired.

Alone.

In the months after The Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had tried to pretend that everything was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't even remotely close to okay. His relationship with Ginny became more stressful each and every day as she asked him to move on. Like the rest of the Weasleys, she had given herself time to grieve for the loss of her brother, just like he had. Fred was like a brother to him in every way other than genetics. Of course he grieved for the loss of half of the Weasley twins.

Of course he did.

The issue that Ginny never saw was that, unlike her, Fred wasn't the only one he was grieving for. He was grieving for Remus and Tonks, for Colin Creevey who wasn't even fucking supposed to be there anymore.

He still grieved for Dumbledore, the mentor he misunderstood and mistrusted.

He mourned the loss of his godfather. He mourned for the senseless murder of Cedric Diggory.

After all these years, he still wept for the murder of his parents. In order to save the free world from the tyranny of an oppressive madman, Harry was forced to give up his youth, his family and those he held dear and go forth into battle.

He still had friends, of course. Ron and Hermione had tried to make a relationship work but anything that starts between the two of them had always and would always end in a fight. They had realized a few weeks earlier that things simply weren't working and broken it off.

Harry and Ginny had broken up a month earlier, just a few days before his eighteenth birthday.

They were all trying to make it seem like things were fine.

But they weren't. For almost four months, Harry had hidden behind a fake smile, a useless scar and a pair of glasses, trying to trick the world into thinking that he was okay.

Well, he wasn't okay and he was tired of pretending.

Who gave a fuck if the world thought he was okay.

Realizing all of this, Harry simply stopped mid-speech and walked off the podium. Instantly, the crowd, which was largely made up of reporters, followed. For several minutes, Harry marched silently towards the Hogwarts gates as he tried to ignore the cameras flashing and the voices ringing in his ears.

But like usual, this wasn't just the voices of the reporters and the journalists.

No, this was his voice, speaking high and bright. For everyone else, Lord Voldemort was dead. For someone who had literally housed a piece of him inside him for seventeen years, death had yet to come.

"Harry, is it true that you beat Ginny Weasley during your brief relationship?"

For whatever reason, that question stuck out, causing Harry to stop. Phase one of the unmasking of Harry Potter was already complete. The world would no longer believe Harry Potter to be a happy, well-adjusted war hero.

Phase two was to apparently make them realize just how terrifying he could be in his own right.

Turning on his heel, Harry came face-to-face with the reporter who had asked the question, instantly get to within inches of his face so that when Harry spoke, the man's face was covered with saliva.

"Why the fuck would that be any of your business? Where are you getting your information? Did she tell you this? Did I tell you this? Because I know I didn't and I'm pretty fucking sure that she didn't either. So tell me, sir, where the fuck are you getting your information."

"S-s-s-sources." the man stuttered.

"Sources!?" Harry scoffed. "Tell your sources to fuck off. Tell your sources that they don't have the right to talk about me. Not even for a second. Did they watch all of their friends die, sacrificing themselves for you? NO! Did they live their lives with a family of the most fucked up Muggles on the planet "for their own safety?" NO! I saved you. I saved all of you! Without me, you would either be Voldemort's slaves or you'd have had your bodies thrown into the air and tortured until death. I gave up everything to get rid of that bastard and how do you repay me? You ask me this fucking question? Get the fuck out of my face."

In an instant, Harry turned, marching back towards the gate when he heard the man's voice again.

"Mr. P-p-potter, no answer is as-s-s good as a yesss in this case."

Quicker than anyone could have imagined possible considering Harry's level of intoxication, Harry drew his wand and stunned him silently, throwing him back nearly twenty feet.

"Write that in your fucking papers."

And with a turn, Harry Potter Apparated.

From within the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

For the next few months, the sightings of Harry Potter were limited and rare. Harry Apparated to his office inside the Ministry each morning and back home each night, never leaving his office and talking to no one. He never left his office because (after a brief suspension for his behavior at Hogwarts), Harry was never placed on a field mission.

Apparently, Harry's fame made him a liability. If it was ever discovered that Harry Potter was killed in action, the Auror Office would lose all credibility. To prevent this, Harry Potter was given desk duty. For the entirety of his time at the Auror Office, Harry filed briefs, was an expert witness on a few small cases and took notes for interrogations.

Never once did he leave the building in the name of his job.

Finally, on Christmas, he had enough. Setting the contents of his office ablaze, Harry marched to the main lobby of the Ministry and Apparated away. There were rumors that Harry had disappeared permanently, gone to follow in the footsteps of Lord Voldemort and become the next Dark Lord. There were rumors that he was dying and wanted to get away.

The truth was that Harry Apparated back to his home at 12 Grimmauld Place, opened up a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey and crawled inside. For months, the savior of the Wizarding World hid inside his London home, his friends occasionally stopping by to talk.

But to the world at large, it was as if Harry Potter had simply disappeared, never to be heard from again.


	2. Chapter 2

For months, the secret Wizarding world hidden beneath the English populace worked to get back to normal, although it had been forty years since normal was even something they could consider.

On September 1, 1998, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry opened just as it had for the last millennium.

Of course, it wasn't exactly the same. Things were never going to be exactly the same. For three years, Lord Voldemort had secretly, and then very publicly, waged war against the Wizarding population of Great Britain. Had his mission been accomplished, the world would have been his next target, seeking to eliminate all Muggles and Muggleborn witches and wizarding, leaving behind a shell of Pureblood wizards and a scorched Earth policy that would have ruined the Earth for generations.

Thankfully, this didn't happen. With the help of his friends, the Boy Who Lived became the Boy Who Saved and Harry Potter defeated Lord Voldemort. With the Dark Lord gone and his followers on the run, Harry Potter became a celebrity the likes of which the wizarding world had never seen. So where was Harry Potter now?

Truth be told, very few people had seen Harry Potter in the months since the reopening of Hogwarts where the celebrity had made quite the scene before disappearing, not be to seen again in public.

You see, after the Battle of Hogwarts, anyone who was anyone in the media wanted a chunk of Harry Potter and most of them took it. A countless number of interviews and Q&A sessions occurred in the four months that followed, some of them with Ron and Hermione, others on his own. For whatever reason, Harry felt it was his duty to answer as many questions as possible. He wanted people to know that he hadn't just disappeared for a year. He wanted them to know that he was actively out there fighting for them.

But the interviews and Q&A's hit closer to home as time went on. Eventually, the questions stopped being about Lord Voldemort, stopped being about Dumbledore and started being about something else: himself. No longer were the questions about the war, they were now about his personal life. Each question started digging at his relationship with Ron, a potential relationship with Hermione, a potential relationship with Ginny and a whole host of other things. While Harry had no problem telling the world the secrets of the war that he had just finished fighting, something about the world feeling like he owed them the details of his personal life needled at Harry.

Eventually, it all became too much and when the demons of his past kept him up at night, Harry turned to the one thing that would quiet them: Ogden's Firewhiskey. Not even Madam Pomfrey's best Dreamless Draught could keep the voices of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks pleading for the lives at bay. So, Harry's very favorite firewhiskey became his coping mechanism, dulling the senses and keeping the horrors of his past from haunting him at night while taking the edge of the thoughts of the day.

Now, his routine was simple. Every day, Harry rose whenever he felt like it, marched down the stairs to a large cabinet and withdrew the already opened bottle of Ogden's. From there, he went to the Black Family Library and read. Each day, Harry learned more and practiced as much as his present level of intoxication would allow. Most of them were unpleasant and possibly Dark in nature. Some of them were ones that Harry had heard of but never dared learn. Others were new with terrifying possible results even if the spell went right.

But to Harry, it didn't matter anymore.

All those years ago, Voldemort told him that there was no good or evil. There was only power and those to weak to seek it. At the time, Harry had thought that it was insane to think like that.

Of course, all those years ago, Harry was eleven.

Now, Harry realized there may be something to what he had said. Spells weren't inherently light or dark. Harry never intended to use any of these spells, not against anyone and not for any specific purpose.

Especially not for any kind of Dark purpose. Despite all of the bitterness Harry held in his heart for the world, he would never wish to condemn it. Of course, there were times when the thought came to him. Harry had become one of the world's most talented and influential wizards during the war. With almost no effort, Harry could have forced the world to bow to his whim.

The world had expected him to save it and then threw him to the wolves. Never once did the world ask what he wanted. Never once did the world concern itself with his well being. None of the reporters asked him how he was doing. None of them asked whether he was happy. It would have been easy to let that lack of concern build into something spiteful, something full of hate.

Of course he was happy. That's what they all thought. Of course he was happy. He had just succeeded in defeating the greatest threat to the world in centuries.

But he wasn't happy. He was relieved that Voldemort was dead and pleased that was finally behind him. But he certainly wasn't happy.

So, in the end, it would have been too easy for Harry to have turned into the next Voldemort, seeking followers and powers to make the world as he saw fit, to force the world to pay him back for all that he had given up in his youth.

Thankfully, for both himself and the rest of the world, being bitter did not make Harry evil or corrupt.

It just made him tired. Tired of being a part of a world that sought only to use him as protection and then as a morbid form of entertainment once that purpose was served.

Sitting in his favorite chair, his glass almost empty, Harry heard the front door open downstairs. In the past, Harry may have been worried about an intruder or an attacker. But over the last year, Harry had read almost everything he could get his hands on when it came to Runes and protective wards.

Now, the only three people keyed into the wards were himself, Ron and Hermione. Anyone else trying to get in would have been in immense pain trying just to get through the wards and he would have heard the screaming and cursing before they had even had a chance to get through the first layer of the wards.

So, Harry just sat in his chair and waited for whichever one of his friends it was to come up the stairs. Very rarely these days did Harry see Ron and Hermione at the same time. Of course, he didn't see either of them often but when he did see them, it was always separate. After the war, the pair of them had tried to make a relationship work. Unfortunately for them and really everyone involved, it turned out ugly. Their first and only fight had ended with Ron saying some rather ugly things about how he expected a girlfriend to act.

Knowing Hermione as well as he did, he was surprised when her reaction was only to walk out. Days later, Ron had gone to apologize and while she had accepted his apology, they both knew that any chance of a relationship was gone.

But as time went on, both Ron and Hermione had secretly agreed that without Harry to anchor them, any chance of a real friendship between the two of them was also lost. Only Harry could keep them both civil and cordial to each other. Arguably, more than anything else Harry had done during the war, this had been his most important function. Without it, Hermione couldn't have worked and without her work, they would have been lost.

"You didn't show up today."

Of course it was her. With a small grin, Harry looked back over to see Hermione Granger standing in his doorway.

"You honestly expected me to?"

"No," Hermione admitted. "But it would have been nice for you to be there."

"For who? For all of the reporters that would have wanted to see what's become of the reclusive Harry Potter?"

"For me. For Ron. For your friends that haven't given up on the world, Harry. We had to sit there and relive the Battle again."

"Why did you go? Why not just do what I did and stay at home? You've done enough, Hermione." Harry said softly.

"I went because it was the respectful thing to do. I went to honor Remus and Tonks and everyone who died there. Some of those people still have family that's alive and they deserve our respect."

Leave it to Hermione, the one of the so-called Golden Trio who was respected the least to talk about respect. Hermione wasn't a Pureblood, Hermione was a woman and in the eyes of some of the haughtier members of their society, these things made her less.

Still, it did nothing to deter her. Harry, to this day, sat in awe of his friend and the barriers that she had worked through. In less than a year, she was the Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic with a voice in Kingsley's ear each and every day. No one worked as hard as she did and no one deserved the level of success that she had attained more than her.

Still, there were the rumors that even Harry managed to hear. Harry had of course ordered Kingsley to quickly promote Hermione. There was the rumor where Hermione was regularly fucking Kingsley in his office at the Ministry. There was the one where Hermione had all sorts of damning evidence on Kingsley and was blackmailing him for advancement.

None of these rumors included Hermione Granger being the most driven and talented person he had ever known with a work ethic that rivaled no other.

Yet, she still stood in his doorway and lectured him on the value of respect.

"You have to give respect to get it." Harry said evenly, although there was a slight burn in his voice. "All most of them did after the war was disrespect me. They disrespected my friends and what was left of my family. They disrespected my privacy and above all, they disrespected those that fought with me."

"Harry, we've had this conversation before." Hermione said softly, coming around the chair to sit on the table in front of him.

"And we'll have it until you understand."

"I've never failed to understand."

"Hermione, the things they said about you after the war...you were the real hero." Harry said, his eyes meeting hers for the first time that day. "You saved me in Godric's Hollow, you saved me in the Triwizard Tournament, you saved me during the Battle. Without you, we wouldn't have known where to even consider looking for the Horcruxes."

"Harry," Hermione said softly. It was amazing how calming her voice was. Just the simple utterance of his name, she was able to get him to stop and listen. "It doesn't matter to me what they said. They weren't there. They didn't experience what we went through."

What we went through.

Those words took on a different meaning depending on who was around. In public, it had been the three of them. What Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had gone through together, hiding from the forces of evil who hunted them.

But privately, those words took on a deeper meaning. What we went through meant the two of them.

Just Harry and Hermione.

Because there was one thing that never got mentioned in the public account of their year on the run: Ron's departure. For some reason, the three of them all managed to keep it quiet. While some others knew about it, they had also kept quiet.

But still, Harry and Hermione had dealt with something that Ron hadn't: abandonment of one of their closest friends. Harry could still hear the words Ron spat at him as he raged on.

I just thought after all this time that we would have actually achieved something. I thought you knew what you were doing!

Want to know why I listen to that radio every night? To make sure I don't hear Ginny's name, or Fred's or George or Mum.

You think I'm not listening too!? You think I don't know what this feels!?

No, you don't know how it feels! You parents are dead! You have no family!

And then he was gone. He came back, of course. But that was weeks later, weeks where all he had to do was watch his best friend twitch at any movement, hoping beyond hope that it was him.

When it wasn't, Harry got to watch as it crushed her all over again. Harry had told Ron that he had forgiven him for leaving and that was the truth. But he could never forgive him for what he did to her. Harry could hear her as she begged with him to come back, pleaded even.

Hermione Granger begged to no one, pleaded with no one. It was beyond her, beneath her. And yet, he could hear her voice piercing through the dark night, begging Ron to turn back.

But with a crack, he was gone.

Forgive and forget? In the past, Harry might have been able to do that. Now? He's forgiven Ron but he's certainly not forgotten and for as long as Hermione was his closest of friends, he never would.

"It matters to me." Harry said, breaking away from his thoughts. "You were the best of us and yet they treated you like a second class citizen while Ronald fucking Weasley got a victor's parade. You were right when you said they weren't there. But that doesn't give them any right to judge us."

"You're not wrong."

"You were wrong about something else, Hermione." Harry said, a teasing grin coming to his face.

"Oh really? Would you be so kind as to tell me what?"

"I haven't given up on the world." Harry said softly. "I understand that the world, to most, is still a wonderful place full of wonderful people. No, I haven't given up on the world, I just no longer care to be in it."

"So you're just going to hide up here forever?"

"I'm not hiding. If I was hiding, then I would be acknowledging that something is out there looking for me. But in my eyes, there's nothing out there for me anymore."

Harry could see that his word's hurt her, something Harry tried desperately to avoid. As the only friend that Harry could really confide in, Harry couldn't afford to push her away. She was really one of the few things in the world that Harry looked forward to. Without her, Harry feared what he might turn into.

And yet, Harry knew that one day, sooner rather than later, Harry would end up living that reality. Someone as talented and charming as Hermione Granger wasn't going to continue to visit him forever. Soon enough, she would find someone who she could live with, someone who she could share her life with. And on that day, Harry Potter would become obsolete in the eyes of Hermione Granger.

He wouldn't blame her one bit. He would only want what he always wanted for her: to be happy.

But on that day, Harry knew that one of the few truly living parts to what was left of his soul would die off.

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's the truth."

"All of the friends that love you? That's nothing. Ron is out there. Ginny is out there. I'm out there. Does that mean nothing?"

"It means everything. But with you comes the rest of the world, the part of the world that would see me eaten whole. You know what that world did to me. It pushed me to where I am today."

"And where are you today, Harry?" Hermione asked for the thousandth time.

"I am here in my house, available to all wellwishers."

"Available? Harry, your wards are quite literally violent. If someone tried to enter your home without permission, they would have bones broken. You block all owls from the outside world and I know for a fact that you've ignored every single letter that Ron and I have handed to you from other friends."

"Guilty."

"So how is it that you are available to anyone? You let only myself and Ron into your house, which I still don't understand considering the way you talk about Ron."

"Ron is still my friend, Hermione. There are just aspects of his personality that I choose not to ignore any longer. We've talked about him before and I don't care to have that brought up again. If you like him so much, why don't you spend more time with him?"

"Because I can't!"

"You can't or you won't?"

"Harry, I can't." Hermione whispered softly, her eyes sinking to the floor. "My work schedule doesn't allow much free time to spend with friends. I keep promising Luna that I'm going to make the trip to Greece sometime, knowing that it's never going to happen. Ginny has sent me two letters that I haven't read and I have been neglecting my parents' wish for a dinner night for weeks now."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have time. I'm the Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic. In the entire country, I have two superiors: Percy and Kingsley. I am quite literally Kingsley's sounding board. Anyone that wants to talk to him has to talk to me first. Any idea that Kingsley wants to bring the public? I'm part of the focus group for the idea. I worked 106 hours last week and that was actually a fairly slow week. I simply do not have time for them."

"Yet you're here."

Harry meant it not as a question or an accusation, simply as a statement of fact. Thankfully, Hermione knew how to read every tone of voice that Harry could give and picked up on that.

"Yes, I'm here." Hermione confirmed with a smile. "I just wish I didn't always have to see you here."

"What's wrong with here? This is my home."

"Harry, a home is a place that you retreat to after experiencing the world." Hermione said sadly. "This isn't a home, it's a monastery. You have holed yourself up here and committed yourself to hiding from the rest of the world and learning."

"I would like to note that you, Hermione Granger, are condemning learning."

"I'm not condemning learning!" Hermione snapped before standing in frustration. "Even I know that learning without experience is nothing. So you have information. What good does it do if you do not use it? You could be a great resource for the world, Harry. Instead, you waste it sitting here, getting drunk and feeling sorry for yourself."

"Let me know when the world isn't interested in Harry Potter and the minutiae of his personal life and I'll think about it."

"Harry, I think the world is less interested in Harry Potter than you think. It's been a year. Sure, when you do return to the rest of the world, things will be hectic but eventually, like all things, the attention will wane. But you'll never know because you've committed yourself to living this life of isolation."

"So what if I have? What if this is what I want for my life?"

"Then I pity you, Harry." Hermione said sadly. "You know, it is days like these that make me less interested in you as well. Goodbye, Harry."

With that, Hermione picked up her bag and walked out of the room. Seconds later, Harry heard the door slam, signifying her departure. Moments later, Harry could feel hot tears slipping down his face. If there was one person on Earth that Harry didn't wish to disappoint, it was her.

But there was nothing for him out in the world anymore. Nothing that enticed him. Nothing to grant him any sort of peace beyond the quiet life he had chosen.

If that meant living the rest of his days from inside Grimmauld Place, then so be it.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Hermione woke up at four o'clock in the morning like she always did. For her, this was her only time of peace during the day. At night, she was too exhausted from the marathon meetings, total lack of any sort of breaks and the intensity with which Hermione naturally carried herself.

So, Hermione stood at the sink of her small apartment, staring out the window, watching as the sun just barely started to creep over the edge of the London cityscape.

Much to the protestation of everyone that she knew, Harry excluded, Hermione had moved into the city the very moment that she had returned from Australia. Very few people knew where she lived and there was a reason for that.

Unbeknownst to just about everyone she knew, Hermione had been the target of several death threats. Some of them were from former Death Eaters, some from those who protested the laws that Hermione was working so hard to change and others were from those who were angry with her after the disappearance of Harry Potter. They believed that she was the reason that he had disappeared from the world, broken-hearted when she had rejected one of his advances.

So, Hermione, while loving the magical world as much as always, had moved in Muggle London. To her neighbors, she was Hermione Granger, a highly placed adviser to one of the members of the House of Commons. Truthfully, it wasn't that great of a lie. It was basically what she did with the exception of it being the Minister...of Magic.

As Hermione finished getting ready to Apparate into work, all she could think about was her brief visit with Harry yesterday. Each and every time she met with Harry, he had slipped further in his depression. No matter what she did, he seemed to be in a perpetual state of self-loathing.

And try as she might, every time she went over to his house, a bit of that depression seemed to come home with her. She couldn't blame him for being the way he was, as much as she would like to. The world had decided that Harry James Potter was theirs and nothing of his was personal, nothing could be kept for his own.

Everything belonged to them.

This wasn't just true for those that Harry didn't know. This also held true for those that Harry had called friends over the years. Parts of the Weasley family worshiped him. Before she had left, Ginny had treated him like a savior. Her own boss, Percy Weasley, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, wanted Harry around as a rallying point much like Scrimgeour had wanted before his death.

Percy still liked Harry very much, much like the rest of the Weasley family.

And as much as Harry hated the positive attention, there was another type of attention that Harry also got and this was nowhere near as pleasant. As much as a large percentage of England loved Harry, there was a small but very vocal group of people that hated him, blaming him for the loss of life during the entire Second Wizarding World.

Another Weasley exemplified this: George. Just a month after the Battle and just days after Fred's funeral, the entire Weasley clan plus Harry and Hermione had been over for dinner. It was the first time they had all been together with none of them on the run for over a year.

It had also been a trainwreck. Whatever George had been holding back during the initial Hogwarts clean-up, during the mass funeral afterwards and during Fred's private funeral, he let go as dinner came to a close.

It was an ugly scene with George laying into Harry, Ron and Hermione for nearly ten minutes. At one point, George stunned Bill for trying to get in between him and the trio. Eventually, Ron and Hermione were absolved of their wrongdoing by George.

But Harry was not.

The last few minutes of the tirade were set aside for Harry himself. Hermione could still hear the each and every word as George barked at Harry, who sat in silence, taking all of George's anger and grief without protest.

"If you had just been faster, then maybe my brother would still be alive. You knew for years that you were going to have to be the one to kill him. YEARS! Yet, you slacked off in school, played Quidditch and probably fucked my sister instead of training! If I had known that I was responsible for everyone, I would have quit everything and done everything possible to make sure that the people I loved survived. Instead, you wasted years of your youth, wasted hours of possible training."

At this point, Hermione could remember the heat in the room as George threw Ron out of the chair next to Harry. Bending towards Harry, Hermione could see the spit and vile radiate off George as he pressed forward at barely more than a whisper.

"Why? So you could be normal? Big fucking deal. You would have had years to be normal. Decades, even. You didn't just waste years of your life, Harry. You wasted years of everyone's lives. You wasted my brother's life. Go ahead, Harry. Have a normal life. Get married, have kids, be successful."

The room was silent as George leaned in, his voice barely audible.

"Nothing you will do with your life makes up for the fact that you are the reason that I won't ever see my twin alive again. Because I still see him all the time, Harry. I see him in the mirror, I see him in my dreams."

George stood and walked towards the door. However, before he left, George had one final message for Harry.

And I hope you do too."

Not at all by coincidence, Harry started drinking the next week.

In the months since that confrontation, Hermione had talked to George. He knew that he had gone too far, said too much in his pain. But much had changed since the end of the war and George wasn't ready to forgive quite yet.

"Seems to be a trend." Hermione mumbled to herself. "Everyone has so much to say but no one wants to talk."

A clock on the far wall chimed, signifying six in the morning and the start of Hermione's work day.

With a turn, Hermione left her home and ended up in her office in the Ministry of Magic's executive suites. Taking a seat, Hermione began her morning as she always did: with paperwork. The filing and sorts of forms and documents allowed her a sense of calm before the hectic race of the day settled in. Within moments, her scheduler would be in with the day's agenda and then the day would race on.

Sure enough, just as the thought entered her mind, her door opened and he entered the room as nervous as always.

"How's the day look, Gerry?"

"No busier than usual, Ms. Granger."

"Gerry, I've asked you dozens of times now. Not only am I not an elected official, I'm not even technically your superior. You work in an entirely different department that just happens to overlap with my duties."

"I know, Ms. Granger."

"Not only that but you are nearly ten years older than I am." Hermione added.

"Not an excuse for poor manners, Ms. Granger." Gerry replied softly. "Would you like your schedule for the day?"

"Please."

"Per usual, you have an eight o'clock meeting with Senior Undersecretary Weasley. Following that, you have meetings with Wizengamot members Ogden and Doge."

"Doge? Again?" Hermione pleaded. "What for?"

"He wishes to have his name added to the Blood Equality Acts: Parts Four, Six, Nineteen, Thirty-Six, Fifty-Five, and Ninety."

"The sections related to unpaid taxes and fines? Why?"

"According to his scheduler, he believes that he contributed to the session's conversation enough to merit his inclusion on the Act."

"Even though he wrote none of it and is hardly present in the Wizengamot?"

"Ms. Granger, you know that I am not responsible for scheduling these meetings. If a Wizengamot member asks for the audience of the Minister, I am required to give them a meeting with you first."

"Well, then I know the next law I'm striking down." Hermione mumbled to herself before looking back up at Gerry. "Continue."

"Following that you have your normal session period and fifteen minutes allocated for lunch."

"Longer than usual." Hermione smirked.

"Quite." Gerry remarked before looking back at his list. "After lunch, Head of the Auror Office Gawain Robards would like to meet with you."

"How many times have I had this meeting wit him in the last month?"

"Six times, Ms. Granger. I suppose Mr. Robards didn't become the Head of the Aurors without some persistence."

"I suppose. Anything else?"

"Just your close of the day meeting and counsel period with the Minister, Senior Undersecretary and Wizengamot Chief Warlock Diggory."

"He's attending this meeting again? Diggory is really laying it on thick."

"Permission to speak openly, Ms. Granger?"

"Always."

"I do believe that Mr. Diggory is forcing himself into these meetings. There are rumors abound that he wishes to be Minister when the Council moves to vote next."

The Council that Gerry was referring to was the Wizengamot-appointed group who were tasked with selecting a Minister every two years. The Council's membership was currently made up of names like Arthur Weasley, Minerva McGonagall and others who had supported them during the war. Membership lasted for four years with a maximum length of eight years. Potential candidates submitted their names and one month before the New Year, the Council met and spent three days sorting through the candidates before selecting the new Minister.

With it being the start of May, things were starting to ramp up in this regard. Kingsley was the only person who had officially submitted his candidacy but there were others out there who were being rumored. Percy Weasley was one and Amos Diggory was certainly another. Not surprisingly, there were a sizable portion of the population who didn't support Kingsley and his "anti-Pureblood legislation." Those people were lining up behind Lucius Malfoy.

Unfortunately for Lucius, the only reason that he wasn't in Azkaban was because his son was currently working with the Ministry to help gather information on the Death Eaters who had managed to avoid capture. With that information, Lucius had already been told that attempting to run for Minister would effectively cancel the deal they had made, resulting in all three Malfoys ending up in Azkaban.

"I imagine that you are correct in that regard." Hermione said. "Anything else, Gerry?"

"Nothing, Ms. Granger. Are there any meetings you wish to schedule?"

"I'll get back to you at the end of the day."

"Very well, Ms. Granger."

"Have a good day, Gerry."

"You too, Ms. Granger."

Having done his business, Gerry walked out and left Hermione in isolation for nearly two hours before Percy Weasley entered her office.

"Hermione."

"Percy, what can I do for you?"

"How close is the Blood Equality Act to being completed?"

That was certainly a tricky question.

"It's been complete for weeks. However, it's basically stuck in negotiations right now. I've had twelve different Wizengamot members in here to discuss different aspects of it in the last ten days and I have two more today. Honestly, it's probably going to be another month or two before Kingsley can sign it."

"Why so long?"

"Because part of my job, our job, is to protect Kingsley. If we hand it to him and he signs it without the Wizengamot going through every word of it, they're going to throw a tantrum that made my second year in Defense Against the Dark Arts look civilized."

"Lockhart?"

"Yes." Hermione grinned. "Either way, they've agreed with the bulk of it and we know that we have the votes for when we introduce it. But something of this size is really going to only get one chance. If we put it out there too quickly and there's something in there that is going to offend someone, it will lose and we won't get another chance to right these wrongs."

"Yes, but if it never gets introduced-"

"It will get introduced, Percy. Everyone knows about it. It's basically been the one thing that Kingsley said he would do when he took the position that we haven't gotten done. If this doesn't get introduced sooner rather than later, there's no chance Kingsley can be brought back in January."

"And if I put my name in the ring?"

"That's no concern of mine. I have no intention of running currently. I do have every intention of doing my job and doing it very well. That means that my dedication is to the man in charge today, not the one that could be in charge in seven months."

"And if it's me?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. A bit of advice: after the last few years, no one on that Council is going to select someone who looks like he wants to be Minister only for the power of the position. You want to be Minister? That's fine and I think you would be well suited to the job. However, I think that you need to be seen doing the job given to you and doing it well. Play politics when you're in the position, not when you're angling for it."

"Don't want to be seen as desperate as Diggory, do I?"

"Not at all." Hermione agreed. "I meet with Ogden and Doge today. I'm positive that Ogden has issues with the potential interpretation that we would require reparations from Pureblood families."

"Something we said we were not seeking."

"Yes, but there is wording in there that could be dangerously close to that."

"Is it that big of a problem?"

"For us, no. Probably not even for Ogden. However, there are Pureblood families out there who never supported Voldemort. If we make this more about their Blood and less about what they did with it, then we're going to offend a lot of people."

"How would this be applied?"

"Basically, someone starts a fear campaign that says that we're trashing all Purebloods. We're not seeking to make things equal, we would be seeking to create a reverse imbalance."

"That's ludicrous! I'm Pureblood."

"Yes, but I'm not and Kingsley was raised by a Muggle stepmother. It will be seen as an attempt to gain our revenge from those who wronged us. We can't afford to be seen in that way."

"So how do we prevent that?"

"I'm certainly that Tiberius already has some rewording that he would suggest."

"Seems likely." Percy agreed. "Do you think you can have it ready by the beginning of July? I know that's pushing it but the longer we stall on this, the nastier this is going to get. As it is, the Prophet is already running wild with stories of Kinglsey's inefficiency."

"Ignore the Prophet. Ever since Kingsley relinquished control of the Prophet to Cuffe, he's been on a paper-selling binge. He's just writing whatever bile he can come up with that will sell papers. Rumor has it that he's already prepping to enter his name to the Council."

"Barnabas Cuffe? Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet?" Percy asked, chuckling as he did. "He wants to be the next Minister?"

"He was close with Fudge and Scrimgeour. I imagine he got a very good inside look at what it means to be Minister."

"Doesn't make it any less ludicrous."

"This is true." Hermione smiled. "Do you have anything else for me? I will aim for the end of July with the BEA but I can make no promises. This thing is going to get torn apart before the Wizengamot can approve it."

"Then let them start tearing as fast as you can. Announce that you intend to present it in the coming weeks. I'm sure that will bring them running to your office."

"Oh joy." Hermione said with a grin.

"See you at the end of the day?"

"If not before then." Hermione replied, her eyes already back down on the work in front of her. Seeing that she was back to work, Percy silently slipped out of the door and went about his day.

Her meetings with Ogden and Doge went exactly as expected. This was both good and bad. Good because Tiberius Ogden was nothing if not excessively detail oriented. He came in with the sections of the rough draft version of the Blood Equality Act available to the Wizengamot, each with a bevy of notes written on them. All of the sections were quick and simple fixes that Hermione could agree to quickly and would help her get things moving.

However, her meeting with Doge was just has mind-numbing as it had been expected. Apparently, when the legislative committee (a subsection of the Wizengamot and Department of Magical Law Enforcement that Doge happened to be on) had met to cover over Hermione and Percy's work on the Blood Equality Act, Doge had been particularly active, logging the second most speaking time of any committee member.

This was particularly amusing considering that Elphias Doge was one of the holdovers from the previous era of the Wizengamot, one where all summons were purely optional. While that was technically still the case, Kingsley and Percy had made it entirely clear that it was no longer going to be tolerated.

Unfortunately, in the 76 member Wizengamot, Doge was one of seven members that didn't care to listen to their new Minister.

However, with rumors abound that Hermione Granger was looking for a way to restructure the Wizengamot, everyone was seeking to do their best. Very rarely did Hermione Granger fail. This meant that if you weren't great at being a Wizengamot member, your time in the court may end up being shorter rather than longer.

Thankfully, Doge's issue was a non-issue. Legislative code specifically stated that you must physically contribute to the writing of at least 10% of the text before it went to the legislative committee in order to be named as a sponsor or writer for the act.

While Doge wasn't happy, it certainly made the meeting shorter knowing there was nothing she could (or wanted) to do otherwise.

After she concluded those meetings, Hermione left her office and spent twenty minutes viewing the Wizengamot. As always, she took notes on who was present, who was speaking, who was absent and who was silent. When the time came to restructure the group, Hermione wanted to have information on who could be trusted to continue on.

A quick lunch followed and then Hermione was back in her office, followed shortly by a very unwelcome knock.

"Enter." Hermione said flatly.

As expected, the door opened and into the room enter Gawain Robards, Head of the Aurors. If Hermione had been asked to describe Robards to anyone, the first word she would have come up with is stern.

The second was killjoy. Even Hermione found the man insufferable as he was completely incapable of lightening the mood beyond the flicker of a candle and even those days were rare.

He was tall, slender man with eyes that watched like a hawk searching for prey. Robards would have never made a good undercover agent, not like Harry or Ron. Harry or Ron could have hidden behind a veneer of youth or innocence but Robards had lost that years ago, sometime around the same time that his once black hair had turned white.

The overall effect was intimidating to most.

Thankfully, Hermione Granger wasn't most. Once you've fought against Lord Voldemort and been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, a stern looking man seems infinitesimally less intimidating.

"Sit." Hermione said, pointing to the chair in front of her. During these meetings, Hermione had realized the best way to get him out of her office was to be stern and quick. Robards wasn't there for social hour. He was there for business and the sooner they started, the sooner he was gone.

"I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

"I do."

"Have your opinions on the matter changed?" Robards asked coldly.

"By matter, you mean the recruitment of Harry Potter back into the Auror Office so that he can go hunt the remainder of the Death Eaters who have escaped or evaded capture? That matter?"

"Yes."

"Why do you need Harry?"

"Because Auror recruitment is at an all-time low." Robards answered firmly. "People believe that with The Dark Lord gone, the war is over. You and I? We know differently. I have my best scouring the islands and the rest of my office is communicating with Ministries across Europe but we aren't having any luck."

"You've told this to me before, Gawain."

"Then you must understand why I am asking you."

"I understand and you have to understand why I'm saying no."

"I don't."

"You don't understand that I'm not risking the very small amount of mental health my best friend has left so that he can go on fighting a war that he's been fighting since he was eleven?"

"This is why we need him, Hermione. You and he are the two people most qualified to do help us."

"What about Ron?"

"Mr. Weasley has repeatedly spurned our advances. I believe he attacked the last person that came to ask him."

"I think he has the right idea for once." Hermione chuckled. "Why would Harry want to come back and work for you anyway?"

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean." Robards said in confusion.

But Hermione saw through the ruse because of two things. First, Hermione had long developed an innate ability to determine the truthfulness in someone's words.

Secondly, Robards was a horrible actor. He knew exactly why Harry wouldn't want to return.

"You allow Harry and Ron to join the Auror Office immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts. You train the pair of them for six weeks. Then you throw Ron out into the field and Harry into a desk job."

"We had determined that Harry wasn't mentally fit for field duty."

"And yet you're asking me to send him out in the field?"

"Not necessarily." Robards said quickly. "We want him to assemble a team. He would mostly act as a source of knowledge and someone to help organize the capture. He wouldn't have to leave his home if he didn't want to."

"It's not that he doesn't want to leave. It's that he doesn't want anyone to come in."

"I've heard that Harry has a very giving heart. Maybe you could try to appeal to that?"

That's when Hermione knew that Robards had gone too far in his questioning.

"You may presume to know a lot about Harry, Gawain. But the fact remains that you intentionally used him to recruit Aurors and then boxed him away. You used him during the time when his expertise may have actually been helpful. Instead, you mothballed any chance that he had of actual making a difference and handcuffed him to a desk."

"Handcuff?" Robards asked, this time genuinely confused.

"Not important." Hermione countered before pressing forward. "I'm not going to talk to Harry about this, Gawain. He's given enough of his life. If he chooses to come out of his isolation to help, so be it. But it won't be on my account. He's given enough."

At this point, Hermione could see the barely concealed anger and frustration in the eyes of Gawain Robards. Thankfully for Hermione, Robards was a disciplined man and would never let that kind of emotion control his reactions.

However, that didn't mean that Robards would treat her as anything less than hostile.

"Think on your loyalties, Granger." Robards said as he stood. "You keep putting that shell of a man before the people that depend on you and before you know it, there won't be a single person left in England that trusts you."

"Why do you even want that shell of a man? If he's so broken, why use him?"

"Broken or not, Potter has information into the actions and movements of the Death Eaters that we couldn't dream of."

Suddenly, the real reason they were going after Harry so forcefully clicked into her mind.

"You want Harry because you can't have me." Hermione said simply.

"You're correct, Granger. If you were anyone less than who you are, I would have had you transferred to my department immediately and without protest. As it is, Minister Shacklebolt won't grant that. So, we need Potter."

"Your situation doesn't change anything, Gawain." Hermione said harshly. "I stand by my statement. It may even do more harm than good to both Harry and your search for the Death Eaters if he steps in to help."

"Granger-"

"It is Ms. Granger." Hermione snapped. "I would remind you that as Junior Assistant to the Minister, I outrank you in every way. As such, I can absolutely order you to leave this office and to never return with this form of inquiry again unless the circumstances change so direly that you have no other choice. Now, do I make myself perfectly clear, Auror Robards?"

"Crystal." Robards growled before turning towards the door and marching out.

As he left, Hermione released all the air and sank back into her chair, rubbing the fatigue that was already started to settle in away from her eyes.

It wasn't helping although neither was Robards' incessant line of question.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione dug back into her work in rewriting substantial sections of the Blood Equality Act as suggested by Tiberius Ogden. She took a break only to rise from her chair and march down the hall to Kingsley's office.

During their meeting, Hermione was silent as was usually the case. While she certainly had earned her position for her insight, there was still an order and as long as Kingsley didn't ask her anything, she was encouraged to listen and absorb.

Thankfully, the day had been rather menial and with the exception of a brief explanation of some parts of the Blood Equality Act, Hermione was free to go home.

Of course, she didn't. Instead, she marched back down to her office, sat back down at her desk and got to work. This was something of a routine for Hermione. She always said that she worked late into the evening so that she could work without interruption.

This was true.

It also would be true at home.

Quite the opposite of Harry, who never sought to leave his home, Hermione could come up with just about every reason in the world to not go home. Why? Hermione wasn't sure. It could be because she was the only one there. It could be because it wasn't part of the world she lived in.

But it also may have had something to do with the fact that it was the only place in the world where there wasn't a single memory of her friends. Her relationship with Ron faded further into simple acquaintances every day and Harry couldn't be convinced to leave the house. Ginny had come over once before leaving the country but even that wasn't the same.

For Hermione Granger, going home meant confronting the fact that the world had changed so much in the last year.

Harry was gone, effectively lost to the world.

Ron was lost to her, caught up in the embarrassing windfall of an exceedingly unsuccessful relationship.

The world wasn't the same and even the normally put together Hermione Granger was having trouble dealing with it.

So, Hermione worked until sometime around one AM before packing up and Apparating home. Within five minutes, Hermione had packed up for the night and fallen into her bed, sleeping from just a few seconds after laying down.

Three hours later, her alarm would go off and it would start all over again.


	4. Chapter 4

"Morning, mate."

Ron took his seat next to his older brother as he did every morning. Each morning, Ron and George, operators of the two Weasley Wizarding Wheezes locations, met at the store in Diagon Alley to go over the previous days' sales list. In the past, the meeting had been done with the intention of teaching Ron the ropes of the business. Now, with almost a whole year under his belt running the Hogsmeade WWW, Ron didn't really need the help with determining the items he was going to focus on selling that day.

Instead, Ron had the meeting for another reason.

He was there to see how his brother was doing.

In the last year, almost everyone had their time of grieving for Fred but together, they had all worked through it. While none of the Weasleys would say that they were in a great place currently, they could get through the day without breaking down over the thought of their deceased brother.

That is, all of the Weasleys except for Ginny and George.

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Ginny had made the mistake of turning to Harry for support. Unfortunately for his only sister, Harry wasn't in a place to help anyone. When it became obvious that he wasn't interested in making a relationship between the two of them work, Ginny had instantly accepted the first contract playing Quidditch she could sign.

It was in Brazil. Ginny hadn't returned home since and while she remained in constant contact with the family, Ron could sense that she wasn't in a good place. He had a desire to go visit his sister but currently, George hadn't hired any extra help besides a new assistant for him.

However, Ron knew that she had Quidditch to turn to when things got dark for her.

George did not. In fact, George's day to day life was a constant reminder of the fact that his twin brother was no longer with them. Since his eruption at Harry, George hardly strung more than a sentence or two together. He was rarely seen leaving WWW or his flat above it and when it was, the mischievous smile that had once been pasted to his face never made an appearance.

"We had a good day yesterday." George said flatly. "However, with the summer coming up, I want to continue pushing our fireworks selection, both the Muggle and Magical variety. June is always a good month for them."

"Yes, they are." Ron agreed. "What about the Skiving Snackboxes? School is about to let out. We push them over the summer while the kids are in the stores."

"Another good choice." George replied, not looking up from the list of products in front of him.

For some reason, Ron was annoyed with his brother's behavior this morning. Reaching into his briefcase, Ron pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to George.

"Verity worked this up for you. It's a list of potential new ideas. We haven't released a new product since-"

"Since Fred died." George snapped. "I'm well aware of this fact, Ron."

"I was going to say since last May but yes, since Fred died. We're still doing good business but the profit margin is gone, George. With your salary, my salary, the bare minimum we pay Verity, Seamus and Lydia, the cost of operating the two shops and supplying them, we're breaking even every month now. If business slips even a little, we're going to end up on the streets."

"You think I don't know that? Of course I know that." George said softly. "Go through Verity's list and come up with something you think would work well. When you have a first draft design, get back to me."

"George, this isn't my thing."

"How is not your thing? You're an equal partner. When Fred and I ran this, we both took care of the designs along with the business."

"That's great." Ron said softly, dreading what he was about to say next. "But I am not Fred."

The look on George's face nearly broke Ron's heart. He hated the fact that he occasionally had to remind George of this. The first time that George had called Ron by his twin's name, George had disappeared for three days before resurfacing, looking as if he hadn't slept the entire time he had been gone.

"I know that." George whispered.

"I joined you to help you but the creative stuff, that's not my thing. I can do the logistics, the manufacturing, that kind of stuff. But I'm not you, George. I never was."

"You talk as if I was the one doing most of the design work." George said, his voice sticking in the back of his throat. "That was Fred. He would have so many ideas that we could only have done a fraction of them. Some of them were crazy, terrible. Others were just plain dangerous."

"Weren't they all a little dangerous?"

"A little, yes." George replied, the very hint of a smile appearing on his face. "But these were downright unsafe. I wouldn't have even tested them on us."

It had been months since George had even been able to talk about Fred. Seeing his opportunity, Ron pressed on.

"Is that why we haven't come up with anything?"

Standing, George went to the window of his office which overlooked Diagon Alley. It was early so there wasn't anyone out in the alley but within the hour, it would be packed, full of witches and wizards of all kinds.

"Almost every night, I get to my flat and try and do something. I've got a list of failed designs longer than my arm. I just can't come up with anything." George said before sitting down at his desk. "I guess I just don't find life as funny anymore."

"I don't think anyone does." Ron muttered. "In the last two years, my oldest brother has been scarred, another brother killed and my only sister has disappeared. My best friend has locked himself in his house and my other friend, whom I failed miserably at being in a relationship with, can barely stand the sight of me."

"She doesn't hate you."

"She doesn't." Ron agreed. "But without Harry, it's hard for us to even be friends. We just see things so differently."

"Ron, what did I tell you about his name?" George said, a sudden edge in his voice. Ron had forgotten just how sensitive George was to the topic of Harry.

"You've told me not to say it." Ron recited. "I still don't understand how you can blame him-"

"We're not having this conversation." George interrupted.

"without blaming me." Ron finished stubbornly. "Hermione was there too. All three of us knew. We were all there."

"But it wasn't your responsibility."

"It was." Ron argued. "It became our responsibility once we knew and didn't walk away. We knew about the prophecy but it didn't change a damn thing. He was our friend and so Hermione and I agreed to help him."

"Until you left."

Something that had taken awhile to get used to was that this new version of George could sometimes be unusually cruel with how he delivered the truth. Of course, he wasn't wrong but the mentioning of his moment of weakness still hurt.

"You weren't there." Ron said, reeling back. "You didn't have to wear that locket. It was like being bathed in a cloud of pure evil. You couldn't think straight. Harry even snapped at Hermione once."

"Really?" George said in shock.

"Yeah. He accused Hermione of not doing enough to help."

"That seems unlikely."

"Without her, the three of us would haven't gotten half as far as we did." Ron said softly. "So yes, I left. Thank you for reminding me of that, by the way. But the second I left, I knew I was wrong. I could have stayed away but I knew that my friends needed me. So when I had the chance to go back, knowing that it could mean me dying in some horrible fashion, I went anyway."

"That's nice, Ron." George said softly. "It doesn't change the fact that he could have been doing things earlier."

"You're right." Ron agreed. "But do you honestly think that Harry wouldn't trade his life for Fred's right now? Harry walked out into the Forest intending to die. It was by some screwball form of magic that I still don't understand that he's still alive."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"We did some things wrong, George, but that doesn't make this all Harry's fault. If the Ministry had helped earlier, things may have been better. If Dumbledore trusts Harry earlier, maybe he learns of the prophecy earlier and gets trained better. If I hadn't left, maybe Harry doesn't nearly die in Godric's Hollow. All I'm saying is that Harry doesn't deserve the blame for everything."

"I know." George said and Ron could tell that he was telling the truth. "I'm just still angry. I can't even explain why. I hope that one day, it goes away. But for now, I just don't want anything to do with him. More than even looking at myself in the mirror, he reminds me of why I don't have a brother."

"Unfortunately, that I can understand." Ron said darkly. "Is there anything else?"

"Not this morning." George said softly. "You should get to Hogsmeade before the morning rush hits."

"You act like I handle the rush any better than Verity."

"She handles it much better than you do." George joked shortly. "But if the two of you are there, there's less of a chance of the store blowing up."

"Probably true. Have a good day, George."

"Same to you."

Their meeting ended, Ron walked out of George's office and onto the main floor where Seamus Finnigan was tinkering with some sort of rocket. Standing as far away from the exploding end as possible, Ron approached him.

"Seamus."

"Ron. How are ye?" Seamus muttered as he continued to work.

"I'm doing alright. You?"

"I would be better if I could figure out why this damned thing wasn't working."

"Which model is this?"

"Prototype for the new Illusion Firework series. The first and last explosions look great but the illusion is translucent right now."

Working for George had meant learning a lot more than he had ever had to while at Hogwarts. Hermione had been right years earlier. The magic inside any of the WWW products was just about as top of the line as you could get. It was a testament to just how talented his brothers were that they had been able to come up with a lot of this from scratch.

"Have you checked the rune order again? It could be that you've switched the number order."

"I haven't. I figured it was something with the enchantment itself." Seamus admitted. "What do you think could be wrong with the runes?"

"If it's not appearing properly, it's probably that the illusion is actually being activated too quickly and is actually overlapping with the first explosion."

"So you're saying I should push it further back in the order?"

"Seems like it makes sense." Seamus replied. "I'll test that out and if it works, I'll let you know. By the way, have you seen Angelina recently?

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just that George seems particularly down recently."

"It is only three days passed the one year anniversary."

"This started a few weeks ago." Seamus whispered, looking over his shoulder. "Beginning of April or the like. Right about that time, Angelina stopped making weekend visits. I figured since she worked up at Hogwarts now and you lived in Hogsmeade, you would have seen her around."

"Yeah, I'm pretty busy, Seamus. If she doesn't frequent the Hog's Head, I doubt I would see her."

"You're right. Just thought I'd ask. I worry about George, you know."

"You're not the only one." Ron said, placing a hand on Seamus' shoulder. "and it's much appreciated. I do have to get moving. Verity will never let me hear the end of it if I'm late again."

"Sometimes I think you work for her."

"Same here." Ron said with a grin before disapparating out of the store and into his own office.

The rest of Ron's day went pretty much according to plan. With it only being early May, the Hogwarts students were still in school and with it being a weekday, the Hogsmeade branch of WWW was fairly slow.

That was with the exception of his monthly Ministry inspection. Since the war, the Ministry had been very keen on keeping tabs on local businesses to make sure that there were no Dark artifacts being sold or traded within them. Already they had caught workers at Flourish and Blotts' as well as The Three Broomsticks holding on to Dark objects for former Death Eaters to pick up. These items had been removed from their homes and given to people in public places with the threat of violence if they turned them in. Even after the war, most of these Death Eaters kept checking in on their carriers to ensure their cooperation.

Thankfully, there were more Decoy Detectors in a WWW branch than there were to get into the Ministry. It would be seen as bad for business if any WWW employee or patron was seen or caught carrying these objects.

Once Ron was done at work, he made his daily pilgrimage to the Hog's Head. There, at roughly 5:30 PM each day, a small group met to talk about their day. The group was a strange collection of Ron, Dean Thomas, Hagrid and Ernie Macmillan. Aberforth occasionally joined their table as they simply enjoyed the quiet of the bar. For the three younger members of the group, they all worked in Hogsmeade but had no desire to return to their empty homes so quickly.

For Ron in particular, this new group of friends had been courteous enough to pass on the conversation of the war and Harry Potter, subjects that Ron desperately wanted to put behind him. As much as he loved Harry like a brother, Ron was tiring of the constant conversation that revolved around Harry. Ever since Harry's tantrum at Hogwarts last September, the media couldn't get enough of the rumors surrounding Harry Potter.

Was he in France? America? China?

Had he beaten Ginny? Was that why she left?

Was he secretly dead? Did he kill himself? Did Ron kill him? Did Hermione?

As stressful as Harry's life had been, Harry had secretly pushed that stress onto him and Hermione. While Ron would never ask his friend to take some of the pressure back, there was a small part of him that resented Harry for abandoning them to the press that he hated so much.

So, with Harry in hiding and Hermione doing her best to avoid him, Ron had gone out of his way to find others to spend time with. Ernie was naturally curious but the war had changed him just like it had everyone else. He was curious but now, there was more that he didn't want to know that he did. Dean had been close to Ron's family for years due to being in the same house and year as Ron and dating Ginny. Dean knew better than to ask anything about Harry or the war.

Hagrid had been in Ron's life since first year but was thankfully oblivious enough to avoid asking anything.

Aberforth just didn't care.

Overall, it made for a very casual group of friends who got together to chat but never really talk about much.

Honestly, this was how Ron preferred things these days.

His evening at the Hog's Head completed, Ron quickly Apparated home to get ready for his evening plans. A quick shower and a shave later, Ron had dressed for a night out and Apparated to Diagon Alley. In the last year, Diagon Alley had seen a resurgence with new stores and restaurants being added almost weekly.

One of the new additions was a restaurant simply called The End of the Road, appropriately titled considering it was located at the far end of the previously undeveloped section of Diagon Alley. For most people, the waiting list on reservations was weeks long.

For Ronald Weasley, Order of Merlin: First Class, it was a couple of days. Walking in, Ron grinned at the hostess who instantly recognized him and led him to his table, which Ron was pleased to see was not empty.

Turning around, his date saw him and smiled as Ron took his seat.

"Ronald." she said with a grin.

"Angelina."

Ron had intentionally avoided the questions about Angelina earlier in the day. Angelina had been a close friends for months and something closer for a few weeks. However, he hadn't been sure how to tell anyone about it since George and Angelina had dated after the war. However, George had apparently told her he wasn't interested in a relationship.

According to Seamus however, that information had not been shared publicly apparently.

"How are you?" Ron asked as the waitress filled the wine glass in front of him.

"I've been better."

"Why do you say that?"

Suddenly, Angelina broke eye contact, staring instead at the floor below her.

"Angelina?"

"I can't do this anymore, Ron."

"Do what?" Ron asked in confusion.

"This." she said, pointing at him and then her. "You and me. I thought I would come here and give it one more try but I just can't."

"You're just giving up? I thought things were going well."

"Ron, we're hiding this from your brother and the rest of the world. How well can things be going?"

"I thought we were only doing that so that we didn't hurt him."

"It was going to hurt him either way, Ron, but I left that choice up to you."

"And what? Now my choice wasn't good enough. You let me pick and I didn't pick right?"

"I don't know." Angelina said, her eyes dropping to the floor again before quickly rising to his. "I just know that I can't do this. You're not what I'm looking for."

"Why not? What about me isn't good enough for you?" Ron snapped.

"It's not about whether you're good enough!" Angelina barked back, causing some people around them to stare. "That's what it always is with you. Are you good enough? Are you better than so-and-so? You don't have the confidence to just be yourself."

"That is not true! I just care about you. I wanted you to be happy, regardless of what that meant. If that meant being with me, great! If not, then so be it."

"So you got selfless all of the sudden?"

Suddenly, Ron got the feeling that this wasn't about her and him anymore.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"I heard what you told Hermione." Angelina said softly. "She mentioned it to Percy who mentioned it to Penelope who mentioned it to me."

"Why was she talking about it at all?"

"Probably because she couldn't talk to Harry about it because it was right in the middle of his breakdown. She sees Percy more than anyone else right now. It would make sense that they would be friends."

"That doesn't mean that she had to talk about it."

"So that's your problem? The fact that she talked about it? Not the fact that multiple people now know just how awful you are."

"That's not fair." Ron said, his teeth grinding together as he spoke.

"How is not fair? Did you not tell Hermione how you expected her to act?"

"I-"

"Did you not tell her that you expected her to be at home? Did you not tell her that her career wasn't as important as yours? Did you not tell her that once she started having kids, then her career was raising them? Did you not say all those things, Ronald Weasley!?"

By the end, Angelina was screaming. With his eyes, Ron begged her to sit and listen. Seeing his expression, she did just that.

"That's not exactly what I said." Ron whispered.

"This had better be good."

"I told her that I was going to have to get used to being with her. I had assumed that when we started dating, she was going to move into the Burrow. I thought she and I were then going to find somewhere to live together. When she told me she was moving into London on her own, I got upset. I thought she was trying to make things complicated. My family is great and as simple as can be. My mom and my dad have an arrangement and they both love it."

"You honestly tried to compare Hermione Granger to your mother?" Angelina asked in disgust. "Hermione Granger is going to be Minister of Magic someday, probably sooner rather than later. She is already a legend in our society due to her involvement with Harry and you and more than likely, I wouldn't be surprised if her individual accomplishments rival or even eclipse Harry's on day."

"What's your point?"

"My point, Ronald, is that you compared her with your mother. Don't get me wrong, I love your mother but she is not someone that Hermione Granger would ever want to be."

"Why not? What's wrong with her? My mum is great."

With that statement, Angelina rose from her seat.

"If you have to ask that question, Ronald, then you never really understood Hermione in the first place. I'm sorry, Ron, but I just can't do this. Without Hermione, I wouldn't have survived the Battle of Hogwarts. She helped me a lot during DA. I just can't be with you knowing the things you've said to her."

Angelina grabbed her bag and, having said her piece, simply walked out the door, leaving Ron to seat by himself. Almost the instant she left, the waitress approached the table.

"Pardon me, Mr. Weasley, should we wait for your date before ordering?"

"No, I don't think she'll be coming back." Ron said softly. "I think I'll just go home."

With a soft POP!, Ron ended up back in his flat in Hogsmeade. Looking out the window, Ron could see the spires of Hogwarts off in the distance. Laying down on his couch, Ron fell asleep staring out the window, wondering if life would ever return to be as happy as he had been as an innocent ten year old.

The year before he had met Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived.


	5. Chapter 5

"Oy!"

Just as loud and obnoxious as usual, Harry couldn't help but smile at his friend's usual greeting when he entered his home. Obviously, Ron didn't want to catch Harry off guard so he shouted the very second he walked in the door.

Harry was certain that Ron knew that he could hear him enter but chose to yell anyway.

Either way, it made Harry smile for a bit and that was definitely a rare occurrence these days.

"You in the library?"

"Where else would I be?" Harry muttered as he finished marking his page.

"Blimey, you'll end up like Hermione if you spend all your time pent up in here." Ron said as he entered the room and took a seat across from him.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"You know what I meant." Ron said, his voice already on defense. "Have you seen her lately?"

"Have you?"

"Not other than the few times when I visit Dad or Percy at the Ministry. I see her, say a few stupid things, she says a few smart things and we all leave feeling better about ourselves."

"Ron..."

"Mate, we're just not compatible anymore." Ron said sadly. "Not without-"

"Me." Harry interjected. "I know. She's said the same thing before."

"Well, she's right. When was the last time you saw her anyway?"

"She came over at the end of August." Harry said, almost thinking to himself aloud. "So, about three weeks ago now, more or less."

"Did she seem alright?"

"She seemed tired, like she always does." Harry said. He hesitated before he continued. "She works too much."

"She's Percy's right-hand man, or woman in her case, who just so happens to be the right hand of the Minister. Of course she's busy."

"How often do you see Percy?"

"Once a week or so. Why?"

"How many hours a day do you think he works?"

"How should I know?"

"Because I imagine that you eventually getting around to talking about your day, am I right? So how many hours is he putting in each day?"

For a second, Ron sat in silence, thinking to himself before he answered.

"Nine, ten. I think he probably works a eleven or twelve hour day here and there."

"Ron, Hermione averages twelve hours a day." Harry said evenly. "She Apparates to work at six in the morning and never leaves until after six in the evening."

"How do you know?"

"Because she comes straight from work whenever she comes over and she's never been any earlier than six."

"Blimey."

"I'm worried about her. I wish she would take it easy." Harry said softly.

"She's a big girl, Harry. I'm sure that she can take care of herself."

Ron's insensitivity was sometimes just part of being Ron's friend. While Harry knew that he meant nothing bad about his comment (in fact, it suggested a confidence in Hermione that Harry's commentary had not), the fact that he would say it aloud when Harry was expressing his concern for his other best friend was annoying to say the least.

Part of this was due to the strain on their relationship, Harry was certain. For years, Ron had been mostly concerned about his family and those closest to him. Now, with the state of their interactions, Hermione was no longer part of that circle and that meant that he simply wasn't as concerned with her well-being as he may have been years ago.

Part of it was just Ron being Ron.

"Yeah." Harry said, letting the subject drop.

For a few moments, the pair of friends sat in a strained silence. Harry considered simply opening up his book and ignoring Ron. However, Harry didn't see as much of his friend as he would like and so he refrained from forcing him out the door.

"I have a favor to ask."

If Ron had a favor, this was certainly not a good thing.

"No." Harry said simply, the desire to open his book growing.

"Hear me out."

"Ron, when you say you have a favor to ask, that doesn't mean you have a favor. It means you have a question and when you have a question for me in the last twelve months, the only questions that you ask involve potentially attending events outside of this house."

"But if you'll just listen-"

"I don't want to listen!" Harry barked, causing Ron to fall silent. "I am perfectly content here, in my house, where I belong."

That wasn't entirely true but Harry would never tell anyone that.

"It's Ginny."

Ginny Weasley. She had loved him for years. Her version of love was much closer to what Bellatrix felt for Tom Riddle than what her parents felt for each other. It was obsession and worship, not love. She would realize that one day but if she was still hiding in Brazil and playing in one of the worst Quidditch leagues in the world, then she obviously hadn't learned yet.

"What about her?"

"She's coming home. Her season ended and she's taking the next month to come up here before she heads back to Rio for training."

"That's great." Harry said. While he may have sounded unenthused, he did truly mean it.

"While she's here, she said that she wanted to see the old gang. I figured what better way to do that than to have a DA reunion."

"You see most of Dumbledore's Army all the time, Ron. Why the hell would we want to have a reunion?"

And then it hit him.

"You want a reunion to get me out of the house."

"It's part of the reason." Ron admitted. "The rest is that we haven't all been together since the-"

"Battle of Hogwarts." Harry snapped coldly as he stood and marched to the window. "The Battle of Hogwarts where my friends died for me."

"Harry-"

"Is George planning on attending this little soiree? Either you forgot that your brother blames me for the death of his twin, which is stupid and inconsiderate, or you remembered and you were trying to throw the two of us in the same room at the same time with the hopes that we would reconcile, which is even more stupid and inconsiderate!"

Harry had been doing fairly well for the last couple weeks. Although visitors were few and far between, Harry was actively trying to work his way back to a more reasonable alcohol consumption each day.

Today was not going to be one of those days. Reaching into the table next to the window, Harry pulled out a nearly full bottle of Ogden's, pulled out the stopper and chugged, draining nearly half the bottle before he decided to stop.

"What in the hell was rattling around in that brain of yours that could possibly make you think this was a good idea?" Harry said, turning back to Ron. "Let's just put fire and petrol in the same room and see what happens! What the fuck did you think was going to happen?"

"Harry, it will be fine. George has just needed some time to heal. I'm sure that with the way he is now-"

"How is he now?" Harry said, wiping his mouth from another blast of Ogden's. "How is he? He's fine, I'm sure. He's going around, smiling, telling jokes, being his usual self, right?"

"That's not fair, Harry. He lost a brother, he lost his twin."

"Then I envy him." Harry said, the drink in his hand already starting to loosen his tongue. "He got lucky. He only managed to lose a brother."

"You watch yourself, Potter!"

"Potter, now, huh? George lost a brother. That's awful, I feel bad for him. I lost a mother, a father, a godfather, an adopted brother, a house elf, my mentor and so many more that I can't fucking name them all! You want to compare, Ron? You want to even try and fucking compare!?"

"Mate-"

"Don't." Harry said, his voice evening out. "Don't. I'm not going. I'm not going to sit through another guilt trip from your brother or anyone else who thinks that I need their grief. I have enough of my own. I blame myself more than anyone else possibly could. Plus, there's no way that I show up and this doesn't turn into Twenty Questions with Harry Potter. Hell, knowing my luck, someone like fucking Parvati would call the Prophet to let them know I left the house."

Harry could see in Ron's eyes that he had disappointed him. Ron had probably assumed that after all this time, Harry would have healed. Harry would be ready to rejoin the rest of the world.

The problem was that Harry didn't see anything in the rest of the world for him. The rest of the world was just out to destroy him and Harry wanted no part of that.

"Will you at least let her come and visit?" Ron said as he started to gather up his things.

"Probably not." Harry whispered. "I get enough excitement when the two of you come over."

"Well, it might be quite awhile before that happens again, Harry."

Ron had intended for his words to hurt. However, Harry knew that they were simply the truth. Much like Hermione, he would eventually get tired of fighting with his friend and he would simply stop coming over.

Honestly, Ron would be better off for it.

"Good day." Ron said before walking out of the room. Taking his seat, Harry finished off the bottle before throwing it against the wall, shattering the entire thing in a single blow. Just as that noise rang out, Harry could hear the door slam downstairs, leaving him alone in isolation once more.

"Harry, there's no need to be so hard on him."

Unfortunately, Harry was never alone. Opening his eyes, Harry rotated his head along the back of the headrest, looking at the chair next to him where his godfather sat. Harry knew that Sirius was dead. But for the last year, when things had been at their worst, that hadn't prevented him, and others, from returning in full force.

For now, Harry knew that the ghosts that he saw were just that: figments of his imagination. However, Harry secretly feared the day that he no longer realized that. Would their constant appearance in his life cause him to believe that they were really?

Would he lose his grasp on reality and forget the line between the living and the dead? It was Harry's greatest fear that Voldemort's ultimate revenge was not the loss of his parents but the loss of his sanity, taken from him by years of conflict and war and enacted by the horrors of all that he had seen.

But for now, the visions were simply that, although Harry did take the occasion to speak to them.

"Sirius, I really don't need a lecture from you right now."

"Was I really the type to give lectures?"

"You may have pretended for a bit." Harry said with a grin. "But you would have still talked to me if I needed it."

"What do you think I'm doing here now?"

"Fair enough, you cheeky bastard." Harry said softly as his head fell back and rested against the chair. "I'm tired, Sirius. Tired of living up to the expectations of the legend that my life has become. Tired of being the target of everyone's attention and tired for being on the receiving end of those who I have failed."

"You didn't fail anyone, Harry. You went out and did exactly what was expected of you. Who in their right mind would have taken the information you had and decided to actually act on it? You had only the bare minimum to work with and you and Hermione and Ron still managed to find all of those Horcruxes and defeat that bastard."

"I suppose." Harry said softly. "How is it then that people blame me?"

"In times of grief, people find any reason possible to be upset. Anything to avoid dealing with the consequences of the events of their lives and the anguish they are suffering from."

This voice was not Sirius's.

"Professor, I do not have the patience for your mind games right now."

Turning to the other side, Harry found himself staring up at an image of Albus Dumbledore, the elderly wizard staring out the window in front of him.

"I never mean to play mind games with you, my boy."

"I'm no boy." Harry growled. "Dead or not, you could see what happened to me. You saw what my life became and what it is today."

"You have selected this path, Harry. You could choose to talk to someone about what haunts you in your dreams. You could opt to talk with anyone. Instead, you've hidden yourself from the world, hiding from the friends who helped you so very much during your years against Lord Voldemort."

Despite the fact that these voices sounded like Sirius and Dumbledore, Harry knew that they were simply aspects of his own subconscious trying to break through to him. However, the fact that these thoughts chose to take the form of all of his deceased friends was more than a little disconcerting.

"They know. They know how bad things are. But they have their own lives to deal with and I'm happy for them that they've been able to move on."

"Harry, do you really think they've moved on?" Sirius asked him. "Do they seem happy?"

"Sure." Harry said, not really believing it. "Hermione gets to do the thing she was born to do now. If there's anyone out there that could get those old Pureblood laws changed, it's her. Ron gets to be with his family now and help his brother through things."

"But who's there to help them? Who is there for them when things get dark?"

"Ron has his family."

"What about Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked.

"I-you-I don't know." Harry admitted. "I'm sure that sooner or later, she'll find someone that can help her."

"That doesn't sound like the Harry Potter I knew." Sirius said, the disappointment obvious in his voice. "She's your best friend, Harry. You know that her life isn't perfect right now and that she could use a friend. But you're sitting in here, hiding from her and the rest of the world."

"It's not her that I have a problem with." Harry muttered.

"The world doesn't deserve the things you've done for them." Dumbledore uttered, still not turning back from the window. "But, if there is anyone out there that does, I would wager that Hermione Granger is that person."

"And if not her, then Ron."

"And what happens if I go back out there and the world decides that it just wants to eat me whole?"

"That's what friends are for, Harry." Sirius replied, a ghostly hand resting on Harry's. "Your father would have never let that happen to me and I wouldn't have let it happen to him. Ron and Hermione would do the same for you and they have. Maybe this time, you can back them up instead."

"As usual, Sirius betrays his wild demeanor with spectacular insight."

"Oh shut it, Dumbledore. We can't have anyone thinking respectable things about me now that I'm dead."

"Maybe you're right." Harry admitted. "I'm still not ready to leave though. I don't want to go back to them yet. I obviously still have somethings to work with, since I'm seeing things again."

"At least this time, the visions that you're seeing are of some assistance."

"Definitely better than seeing Diggory. That one never turns out well for you, does it?"

"Could we not talk about that one." Harry said, a cold sweat starting to form at the thought of the former Champion. But now that the thought was there, Harry knew that it would remain. Leaning over, Harry reached for another bottle.

"Harry, now isn't really-"

"Shut up, Sirius." Harry growled before taking a long swig from the large bottle. "I've already started down this path tonight and when I do, I don't come back."

Another swig.

"It's going to be a long night."

"Knowing the amount of Ogden's that you intend to consume, Harry, I imagine it will actually be rather short."

"Gods, I hope so." Harry said before taking another gulp. "That's a memory that I don't need to relive anytime soon."

But Harry knew that the memories, the fragments of the past that haunted him were getting worse, not better. Each night, Harry laid in bed and was forced to relive some death, some terrible aspect of the life he had led. Sometimes it was Cedric, other nights it was Sirius and others still it was Dumbledore. Some nights had him remembering the line of bodies in the Great Hall during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Some nights, he simply relived the single image of Colin Creevey's dead body being carried passed him.

Tonight, it wouldn't be any of those. Tonight, he would be visited by the memory of a sound, something so horrifying that no amount of Ogden's could block it out. No vision came with it, it was simply a sound over and over and over again until Harry thought that he would slip into madness in his sleep.

The first part of the sound was a cackle, something dark and evil and unsettling.

The laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Then, he would hear a scream. Something helpless and terrified. In the scream, she was begging, pleading and yet Bellatrix continued.

And for the rest of the night, Harry would hear the screams of Hermione Granger on repeat, like the sounds of a broken record of torture.

In the morning, Harry would wake in a pile of cold sweats, sobbing into his pillow as he was forced to hear her scream again.

Sometimes, she would even scream his name.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione was not surprised to see that her day was busy. The Blood Equality Act had just been handed over to the Wizengamot for discussion and deliberation after weeks of meetings to discuss its contents. Nearly every member of the Wizengamot had already seen parts of the document and several of them had been able to see almost all of it due to the number of meetings they had had with her.

Currently the middle of July, it would probably be another month before even a preliminary vote was held on the Act and another month before a final vote was held, if one was held at all. Either way, the fact that it was open to the Wizengamot meant that it was also open to every witch or wizard who financially supported a member of the Wizengamot.

Getting a seat in the Wizengamot technically required nothing more than being born to the right house or being asked to join. The body had no set number of seats and no rules for being removed.

However, that lack of rules also meant that, if you were a pain in the side of anyone with particular influence, it also made it very easy to remove you. Any legal complaint of any kind initiated an old tradition that effectively required any Wizengamot member to step down from their seat. In this way, the only way to avoid this happening to you was to have your own benefactor who could protect you should you be required to offend someone else in the Court.

Unfortunately for the extremely wealthy, the Blood Equality Act was not only designed to give Muggleborn the equality they deserved. It was also designed as a complete governmental reform, stealing aspects of numerous muggle and magical government models in order to provide a more balanced system. The Council that currently selected the Minister who stay. However, in time, it would eventually be made up of the highest ranking Wizengamot members.

The goal was to also cap the number of seats at ninety-nine. All those who had inherited a seat would remain there for a decade. All others would be up for open election within two years. Voting would be simple. A list would be sent to all "of age" witches and wizards with those who wished to be considered. Each ballot would accept ten answers and be returned to the Ministry. The ballots would then be counted and the list ordered based on number of votes received. At that point, if there were fifteen seats available, the top fifteen votegetters would join the Wizengamot for a period of three years.

Eventually, when the decade freeze on those who had inherited their seats were up, one third of the Wizengamot would be up for election each year in open competition against every other candidate available. No money would be able to change hands and the accounts of all those who ran or were elected as well as any Ministry employee were eligible for audit at any time. With almost 65% of the country's workforce connected to the Ministry in some way, this was done to ensure that they would be able to limit the purchase of political seats as much as possible.

It wasn't a perfect system but it was defined and a sight more structured than their previous system while being equal in treatment to all witches and wizards.

Of course, that was bound to upset some people and that is who Hermione was meeting with that day.

All morning, Hermione had sat through meetings with the wealthiest in Wizarding England, almost all of whom had the same complaint: This law was designed to take power away from them.

Hermione's response, each time, was quite simple.

"That is the design, Mr. Wayne." Hermione said politely. "The Minister has decided that money will no longer be the deciding power in our government."

"Money has been the deciding power in our government for centuries." Mr. Wayne replied in a huff. "To change our government so drastically all at once would shift the power balance significantly!"

"That is quite the point." Hermione said, the niceties being entirely fake at this moment. "The Minister felt that those of non-Pureblood birth were poorly represented in our government. They were harmed by laws that were designed to give the advantage to Pureblood wizards and the wealthy, neither of which the average Muggleborn or halfblood will become."

Hermione could tell that Mr. Wayne was teetering on the edge in front of her. While Wayne wasn't Lucius Malfoy, it was obvious that he also wasn't a fan of Muggleborns. Sitting in front of the most famous Muggleborn witch in the world and being told how things were going to work was not sitting well with the man and he was doing an exceedingly poor job of hiding it.

"Ms. Granger, would it be possible for me to meet with the Minister?"

"Unfortunately, Mr. Wayne, as this legislation was chiefly written by myself, it has come to me to take all of these meetings. The Minister is currently out of the country anyway, meeting with the French and German Ministers of Magic all week."

"I can wait." Mr. Wayne snapped.

"Waiting is not going to be an option, I'm afraid." Hermione replied, her ability to be polite straining. "I have taken note of your grievances but there is simply nothing we can do for you at this time. The Minister has made the decision that our Ministry needs to move forward and that this is the best way to do this."

In an instant, Mr. Wayne grabbed the cane in front of him and smashed it on the desk, nearly crushing Hermione's hands. Almost as quickly, Hermione had her wand drawn, holding it inches from the man's face.

"Listen to me, you little Mudblood." Mr. Wayne growled. "You had best listen to me. I will not tolerate this kind of treatment from some Muggleborn trash. You'll heed my words when I say that if this Act doesn't disappear within the hour, you will not like the consequences."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Wayne?"

"This is not a threat, girl. This is the promise that I can make your life miserable if you defy me."

"Well then." Hermione said evenly. "That makes this much easier."

With a quick flick, Hermione silently repelled the man, throwing him against the wall. With another wave, ropes appeared from nothing and wrapped themselves around Mr. Wayne, binding him tightly.

"Mr. Wayne, you are hereby charged with threatening a Ministry official and attempted coercion. Under the new bylaws set forth by our Minister, you will be held for a period of one week. During that time, the Minister will personally hear your story and determine your punishment."

"You think that you can just skip the Wizengamot!"

"The Wizengamot approved this measure, you dimwit." Hermione growled. "While the Blood Equality Act is under advisement, all cases of action against Ministry workers will be heard and tried by the Minister. This was done to ensure that people of your proclivities were unable to try and force the shutdown of the Blood Equality Act, whether it be by force or by money."

Just as Hermione finished speaking, her office door opened with two Aurors standing in it.

"Take him away. The Minister will see to him personally."

"Will do, Ms. Granger." said the taller of the pair. "Mr. Robards is here for his meeting."

"Send him in." Hermione growled before taking a seat. Just like weeks earlier, Robards stalked in, a dark look on his face. Hermione's reaction to his appearance was also the same.

"Sit." Hermione ordered. "I thought I was clear on us not having this meeting again."

"You were unless some new information came forward."

"I'm assuming you believe that you have that information."

"Malfoy says that Dolohov has begun openly recruiting again. He's apparently operating out of his family's manor in Ireland."

"I was unaware that Dolohov came from money."

"He's not. His branch of the family was the inbred, dirt broke variety. However, his uncle was exceedingly wealthy. When You-Know-Who came back the second time, Dolohov's uncle mysteriously ended up dead with all of his property willed to his nephew, despite having two children of his own. We couldn't prove any foul play so he got the house. Not that it mattered much anyway, the house was unplottable."

"How does this change things?" Hermione said, cutting to the point.

"I believe that Dolohov means to reunite those Death Eaters that remain free. They pose a direct threat to the Ministry should they be left unchecked."

"Then organize a task force."

"That is the plan, Ms. Granger." Robards snapped. "That's why I'm here."

"I don't understand what makes you think that this changes my opinion on Harry."

"Because my argument has changed."

"How so?"

"You're letting personal feelings get in the way of your ability to do your job."

"Excuse me?"

"This isn't related to your job. You're not looking at this objectively and that's been the problem the whole time. I've been coming to the Junior Assistant to the Minister, not Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter. But that's not who I get to talk to."

"Are you implying that I'm not doing my job?"

"I'm not implying it, Hermione." Robards said, his voice even and honest. "I'm coming right out and saying it. The purpose of this position is that you're in charge of determining whether or not this meeting demands the Minister's attention. But that hasn't been what you've been doing. You've been deciding whether you think that it's right or moral for your friend."

"Why come to me at all, Gawain? You could have sent him an owl."

"We both know that if I'm going to get in contact with him, it's going to be through you. It just so happens that I have to talk to you about it before I can talk to Kingsley and get him to force you to do it."

"That is Minister Shacklebolt, Gawain."

Despite her protest, Hermione knew that Gawain was right. She didn't want to admit it but she had not been impartial about this at all. However, she also felt that she didn't or shouldn't have to be about this particular matter. Harry Potter was more than just her friend, he was a national treasure. If they pressed him further into the abyss and he did something that would tarnish his surprisingly sterling reputation out in the world, that could potentially be a political nightmare.

Either way, she knew that she couldn't filibuster anymore so she chose an alternative route.

"You will meet with Percy later today." Hermione send, writing a note and sending it to Percy in that instant. "At that meeting, you lay out what you want and then the three of us will discuss it. I will make it perfectly clear that I am not talking to Harry about this and if that costs me my job, then so be it."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger." Robards said respectfully. "That's all I ask of you."

"Get out of my office." Hermione mumbled as Robards hastily turned and marched away from the very angry woman in front of him.

For the rest of the day, Hermione was about as surly as she had ever been. Every question was answered with as few words as possible and typically with a tone that would make most people cringe in fear. Finally, the people in the offices around her got the memo that Hermione Granger was not to be messed with today and left her be.

Suddenly, after hours of working alone, her door opened. Her eyes instantly snapped up to see Kingsley and Percy walking through her door.

"Minister." Hermione said, standing as he entered.

"Sit, Hermione, it's just us." Kingsley said, waving her off as he and Percy took their seats across from her. "I thought that our normal meeting could use a change of venue."

"I imagine I know what this particular meeting is going to be about."

"I imagine you do." Kingsley smirked. "How many meetings has Gawain scheduled with you to discuss this topic?"

"Nine."

"It would have been ten." Percy muttered. "He tried to schedule one during the memorial ceremony in May."

"He's nothing if not persistent." Hermione replied.

"He's also in charge of assessing our national security." Kingsley added. "He doesn't take threats lightly and if he thinks that Dolohov is a possible threat, then we should listen."

"It also means that there's something he's not telling you." Percy countered. "He's probably got six or seven other potential threats that is worrying him. He's just letting you know of the main one."

"What's your point?"

"My point, Hermione, is that if he feels like he needs Harry, he's afraid."

"Gawain Robards afraid? You are serious?"

"Deadly." Kingsley said intensely. "I've known Gawain since I entered the Academy. He was finishing his last year as I was starting my first. You have to understand, he's a very prideful man. He's very good at his job and he enjoys that fact. If he feels that he needs Harry, he's admitting that he is at least partially in the dark about this possible threat and that should worry you very much."

"What's your point?"

"His point is that we both believe that Gawain may be right in bringing Harry back. We can't afford to lose you to the Aurors right now and we both know that Ron isn't going to help."

"What makes you think that Harry will?"

The look on both of their faces was fairly obvious.

"No."

"Hermione-"

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence, Percy." Hermione growled. "Are you insane? Are you secretly touched in the head? What, in a million years, would make you think that I would do this?"

"Because it's your job." Percy snapped back before he was physically cut off by Kingsley.

"That's enough." Kingsley barked before turning back to Hermione. "He is right. As a member of the Ministry and especially a high-ranking one, your duty is to the protection of the witches and wizards of this country."

"And as a human being, my responsibility is to my friend. We take care of each other, even though Harry doesn't come out of the house to do it. He's talked to Ron about how much he worries about me being overworked."

"I thought you weren't talking to Ron anymore."

"It's not like I'm avoiding him, Percy. He stopped by to see you the other day while you were in a meeting so he came in and talked. We don't hate each other, we're just not as close as we used to be." Hermione said, frustration starting to boil over. "Either way, it doesn't matter because I'm not doing it. I'm not going to prevent you or anything like that but I'm certainly not going to help."

"And if I force you?" Kingsley returned, although his tone lacked the sound of a threat. "What if I order you to do it as the Minister of Magic?"

"Then, I'll tell you the same thing that I told Gawain, I will clean out my office before the night is out."

"Hermione, this is-"

"Final." Hermione said firmly, her eyes burning a hole into Percy's forehead. "Send him a letter or a Patronus or try and Floo him, I don't care. You know where he is, Kingsley. He's not really doing a great job of hiding if you know where to look."

"I'm sure he's thankful that most people don't know where to look."

"I'm sure he is." Hermione chuckled before turning serious once more. "You know how much he gave up during the war. With my parents still finding it tough to talk to me after what I did, Harry is really the only family I have left. He's more important to me than any law or job."

For a few seconds, Hermione thought that Kingsley was going to erupt, barking an order of one kind or another. Thankfully, he was able to diffuse that thought with a simple smile.

"I will send him a letter." he said softly. "If he asks for your advice, tell him what you just told me."

"Thank you, Kingsley."

"You are quite welcome." Kingsley said as he stood. "Now, Percy and I are going to go handle a couple of other matters. You're going home."

"Sir?"

"You look tired, Hermione. Go home, get some rest, take a break."

"Sir, there's a lot of work that I still have to get done."

"Ms. Granger, it was not a request." Kingsley said with a grin. "Take something home with you that you can nibble at this evening but I am ordering you to go home and get some relaxation in. You are of no good to me if you're not at your best."

"I suppose that I can do that."

"See to it that you do." Kingsley said before turning and marching out the door with Percy on his heels, leaving Hermione alone in her office with her thoughts. After sitting in silence for a few minutes, Hermione did what she had been ordered to do, grabbed a section of the Blood Equality Act to continue to tweak and Apparated home.

However, despite her best efforts to follow Kingsley's orders and relax, she wasn't able. Instead, her mind was fixated on the letter that Kingsley was likely writing at that very moment. At some point, that letter would get to Harry.

How would he react to it? Would he blame her? Would he get angry? Would he even care?

The fact of matter was that Hermione didn't know how he would react and that bothered her. In the past, Hermione had prided herself on her ability to read Harry. Just based on his body language and his tone of voice, Hermione could tell just what was running through his mind. It likely had something to do with the fact that Harry was entirely incapable of hiding these facts but most people were so concerned with watching Harry Potter that they didn't see the person underneath.

She had. For years, Hermione had gotten closer to Harry than probably anyone. She was his best friend and he was hers.

Which made it all the more heartbreaking to admit that she felt that she didn't even know Harry anymore. The aftermath of the war had changed him so much. She knew that he saw things in his sleep and there was a part of her that wondered if he didn't see these same visions during the day.

She knew that he had at least once.

It had started about a week after the Battle of Hogwarts.

Hermione had been asleep in the deepest, darkest part of the night when she was brought of her sleep. To this day, Hermione couldn't have told anyone what made her wake up but she knew that something was wrong. A quick peek out of the window had told her all she needed to see.

Harry was standing outside, simply staring out at the darkness that lay on the lake at the back of the Burrow's property. Quickly, Hermione dressed herself and raced outside. Once she had gotten out the backdoor, she could hear that Harry was speaking. However, this didn't sound like normal muttering to yourself like when you remind yourself of a task that needs finishing.

Harry was quite literally having a conversation with himself.

"How could you let me die?" Harry barked out in a hoarse whisper. The voice sounded eerily similar in tone but without the original timbre, Hermione couldn't place it.

"You know that I never meant for you to die." Harry countered to himself. "I never meant for anyone to die."

"I suppose I was the first casualty of your camping trip. Do you know how brutal it was, watching you trip all over yourself in the woods for a year? You have talent, boy, but you wasted it. You didn't train, you didn't prepare. If it hadn't been for Granger-"

"If it hadn't been for her, more than just you would have died."

"Dammit, I thought that fake version of me had at least taught you something."

That's when Hermione realized where she recognized the voice: Harry was channeling Mad-Eye Moody. When he spoke with that voice, everything changed: his posture drooped yet became more aggressive, his voice dropped and his words became clipped and agitated.

The stark contrast between that and the apologetic tone Harry was using for his own voice would have been enough to convince someone that there were two different people out there.

Instead, Hermione watched as Harry continued to speak to himself.

"I was working on it." Harry pleaded. "I wasn't ready for Dumbledore to die. I thought there was going to be more time."

"Do you think I want to hear your excuses, boy?" Harry-Moody barked back. "You were weak and it showed. Riddle walked all over you. If it hadn't been for his own foolishness, you would be dead and he would be celebrating over your decaying corpse."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry countered, a sense of defiance in his voice now. "I know how lucky I got. Most of the fact that Riddle is dead was his own fault. But that doesn't change what I had to do to complete it. Any other wizard wouldn't have gotten anywhere near what I did. They wouldn't have destroyed one Horcrux let alone all of them."

Suddenly, Harry's voice broke.

"They certainly wouldn't have been able to get rid of the last one."

At that point, Hermione remembered only being confused. The last Horcrux that had been destroyed was Nagini, slain by Neville with the Sword of Gryffindor. What would have been so challenging about that? Harry didn't even do that one himself.

"You think that walking into that forest to die makes you a hero?"

"Do you realize what kind of decision that is to make?" Harry said, challenging Harry-Moody for the first time. "I had two choices: I could walk away, knowing that Voldemort would live forever but I would get to live whatever was left of my life. The other choice was to walk into that forest and let him kill me, knowing that he would be taking his last remaining Horcrux with me."

Suddenly, the picture became clearer. Ever since Harry had revealed the information about the Horcuxes to her and Ron, she had been curious about Harry's scar. The scar did seem to occasionally behave in ways that indicated it may have been a Horcrux. However, she had been too afraid to ask or even to look any further into it. To hear Harry speak about it so plainly was certainly a shock and it spurned her to step forward.

But before she could reach him, Harry spoke up again.

"Of course, you're right though." Harry said sadly. "Doing what I did doesn't make me a hero, it just makes me a martyr. Maybe that's how things should have ended. Maybe if I had died and someone had truly been able to defeat Voldemort instead of letting him defeat himself, things would be better. I would be dead, someone would become the hero and I wouldn't have to deal with the fact that I am responsible for every death in this war, including yours."

Suddenly, Harry-Moody returned, his words etched into Hermione's mind forever.

"I know it would be better, Potter. Regardless of what you've done, you're a murderer. You killed dozens with your negligence. The world would be safer without you."

The last few words out of Harry's mouth blurred as he rocked forward, throwing himself off the dock and into the water below. Hermione waited just a second before she realized that he wasn't making any attempt to come back up. Without thinking, Hermione lurched forward, sprinting headfirst off the dock and into the water. Thankfully, it was early June and the water wasn't terribly cold.

Any colder and dragging Harry's stubborn ass out of the water would have been a terribly large hassle. As it was, it took quite a bit of effort for Hermione to drag him out of the water. But the second Harry's face broke the water, it was as if he snapped out of a trance. Grabbing Hermione's hand, he pulled her to the shore before leaning back against the banks of the lake.

For a second, neither of them spoke. Finally, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Where did Moody go?" he asked innocently. "We were talking just a few seconds ago."

His face was so innocent, so young. Even through all he had seen, Harry possessed an innate ability to suddenly appear and act years younger than he was and at that moment, he was younger than Hermione had ever remember seeing him.

Unfortunately, this didn't mean that Hermione could keep him in the dark. He had to know because it was the only way that he was ever going to accept any of it.

"Harry," Hermione started gently. "Moody is dead. He died last summer."

More than a year later, Hermione could still remember the look on Harry's face, light only by the moon and its reflection of the lake, as he remembered everything that had happened.

In that moment, Hermione wondered just how broken her friend was but with all he had seen, she hadn't been surprised. She had assumed that with time and friendship, Harry would be able to get through his troubles and lead a normal life.

Currently, she could not have been more wrong as Harry slipped further and further away from them. As Hermione lay in her bed that night, Hermione wondered what Harry was seeing now.

Who was he talking to and what were they saying back?


	7. Chapter 7

July 31.

It was his birthday. Normally, Harry would be begging Mrs. Weasley not to make a fuss over his birthday, despite the fact that he had always loved that she had treated it like such a big day. After years of having his birthday ignored, her overcompensation was actually something that Harry looked forward to each year.

Of course, this year, things were just a bit different. He was still having company on his big day but there was no party, no celebration.

Just a bit of time with the only friends he had in the world. For one day, Hermione and Ron had agreed that they could do their best to be civil. Honestly, Harry was expecting some sort of brawl to happen between the two of them.

Internally, Harry could decide if he was looking forward to that or not. On one hand, he shouldn't be encouraging his friends to bicker. However, on the other hand, it may just make things seem like they were normal again.

Just the three of them, Hermione and Ron fighting with Harry playing the reluctant referee. Those certainly were the good old days.

Today was anything but the good old days despite the acting that had been going on so far that evening. About two hours earlier, Hermione and Ron had shown up together, as planned, for dinner at Harry's place. During dinner, both were aggressive in their desire to converse with Harry, poorly hiding the fact that neither of them had any intention of talking to each other.

Normally, Harry probably would have been bothered by the act that they were putting on but he knew they were doing it for him, something to make things seems normal, even if just for twenty-four hours.

Unfortunately for the pair of them, normal wasn't in Harry's vocabulary without a massive amount of Ogden's Firewhiskey. Earlier in the day, Harry had been visited with a return visit from Sirius and Dumbledore, lecturing him on the amount of alcohol he had been consuming.

Harry had promptly thrown a bottle through Dumbledore's head before downing another in less than an hour.

Now that dinner was over, Harry took a moment to escape from his friends, grabbing a glass and a large portion of Ogden's before returning to the kitchen where Hermione and Ron were working together in silence to finish cleaning up the dishes from dinner. Harry could tell from the look that Hermione gave him as she traversed from the cabinets back to the sink that she didn't approve of his drinking.

Personally, he wasn't sure that he approved of it himself but it was the only thing that was keeping him sane right now. So, approval be damned, Harry drank.

Speaking of Hermione, the presence of her created a thought that popped into Harry's head and he couldn't keep it in.

"Hermione, I have a question for you." Harry asked before taking a large gulp from the glass in his hand.

"Yes?" Hermione asked, her head twitching towards him.

"What do you know about a letter from Kingsley?"

About ten days earlier, Harry had received a letter from Kingsley asking him to head up a new task force to catch the remaining Death Eaters that were still at large.

Harry had promptly set the letter on fire before throwing the remains out the window.

With Hermione's position in the Ministry, he assumed that she had to have known about the letter.

"I was asked by Gawain Robards to contact you about the position." Hermione said, tensing up as she spoke. "I refused on a number of occasions before passing him up to Percy."

"What made you do that?"

"He accused me of not doing my job. I was trying to protect you." Hermione replied, turning to lean against the counter behind her as she finished hand drying one of the plates. For whatever reason, Hermione had continued to do the dishes by hand over her lifetime. It was the only activity that she had neglected when she had turned to magic for her domestic life.

Personally, Harry thought that she did it to bother Ron whom she forced into doing dishes the Muggle way whenever he joined her.

"He said that I wasn't doing my duty. I was asking as your friend instead of the Junior Assistant to the Minister."

"He was right."

"I was trying to protect you." Hermione repeated.

"I appreciate that." Harry said with a grin as Ron looked on. "You don't have to do that, you know?"

"Mate, it's what we do." Ron said, looking over at Hermione with something that actually resembled affection. "You think that this is the first time something like this has happened since you decided to lock yourself in here? I nearly punched Perce when he asked me to get in touch with you about this."

"You nearly punched your brother?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"He had asked six times already."

"I'm not saying that I don't appreciate it." Harry said, cutting the pair of them off after he finished his glass. "I just want you to be able to do your jobs and live your lives without having to worry about me."

"I think Ron and I made peace with the fact that protecting you was a part-time job sometime around age eleven." Hermione said, the slightest of smirks on her face.

"Fine." Harry said before waiving the both of them into the front sitting room. Grabbing the bottle of Ogden's, Harry filled his glass before sitting in the largest chair that faced the fire. Quickly, Ron and Hermione flanked him with Ron sitting on the loveseat to his left and Hermione in another armchair on his right.

For nearly an hour, the three of them sat and talked. They discussed a myriad of things from Hermione's work (what she could tell the pair of them anyway) to Ron's continued involvement with Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The conversation leaned terribly close to talking about George, a sore subject for Harry since the last time the pair had been in the same room, George had basically blamed Fred's death on him.

Of course, no one had to know that Harry already had Fred visiting him in his sleep to do that for him.

They talked about the weather and how this summer had been unseasonably wet, something Harry barely noticed being inside all day, every day.

They talked about the Chudley Cannons who had managed to make it out of the League Basement for exactly one match before being beaten by Tutshill 690-10 and returning to the bottom of the league.

They talked about the odds of Percy asking Penelope to marry him, which Ron said was almost guaranteed to happen at this point.

Finally, after well over an hour, Harry couldn't take it anymore. They were sitting there acting like everything was fine, like life was normal. After all that time, the words that Harry had wanted to say all night burst out of his mouth.

"I want to leave England."

As expected, the reaction from his friends was not particularly positive. Both of them started shouting protests almost instantly. Harry simply waited until they were done shouting before he continued.

"I appreciate your concern but I've already had a couple of weeks to think about this."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"The letter was what did it. I understood why Kingsley sent it but I decided that I didn't want to be the one that someone turns to every time someone Dark decides they're going to threaten England. I already defeated one invincible Dark wizard in my lifetime. Isn't that enough?"

"Of course it is." Hermione shot back.

"But they still asked again." Harry countered. "Instead of developing their own methods to track whoever it is that's threatening them this time, they simply went back to the same well."

"You've got to see it from their side, mate-"

"I have, Ron." Harry interrupted. "I have for two weeks. I absolutely understand why they asked me but I don't care to be asked. I'm done chasing after the boogeyman."

"Boogeyman?"

"Muggle myth, Ronald." Hermione said before turning back to Harry. "So send something back to Kingsley. Let him know that you don't want the Ministry contacting you."

"How long will that work? Eventually, Kingsley won't be the Minister. Someone else will take over and I'll have to do the same thing over again. Gods forbid, we may eventually have someone in office who believes that it's my duty to do it. It wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened."

"We're working on fixing that."

"I know you are." Harry said softly. "That doesn't change the fact that there are a lot of dark things that go on in any government. I don't want there to be the possibility of the Ministry trying to use me in any way. I'm done."

Suddenly, Ron stood. Apparently, something had been bothering him for the last several minutes.

"So you're just going to leave? You're just going to walk out on all of us?"

"I'll let you know where I'm going. I've already started looking at homes in Spain. That's probably the first place I would go. Spain or Italy. Somewhere where I can spend my massive fortune doing nothing but staring at the ocean and drinking the world's best firewhiskey."

"I know you wouldn't walk away without telling us where you're going." Ron said with a surprising calm. "It's that you're not going to be here. Here, in London, with us."

"We both know that I'm not really here anyway. Even in London as I am, I haven't left the house in months and when I'm here, I'm usually in some state of intoxication. What would be the difference between being drunk in a house that reminds me of my deceased godfather and being drunk in a house that didn't remind me of my deceased godfather but happened to be a few hundred kilometers away?"

"The difference would be is that if we would need you, you wouldn't be here!" Ron said, his voice rising slightly.

"Who the hell needs me right now, Ron?" Harry barked.

"We do!"

Harry stood, walked to the far end of the room, grabbed the bottle of Ogden's and downed half of the remainder. He had enough voices from the beyond yelling at him, he certainly didn't need them from those who are living.

"How do you need me?" Harry asked softly, his voice barely above that of the tiniest whisper.

"What?"

"You say that the two of you need me. How? What possible service could I provide right now?" Harry said, his voice even and deep. "Do you need the drink? I can provide you with that I suppose. Do you need to watch a case study in developing madness? I certainly could help you with that too. Do you need to talk to Fred? Probably not surprising that I can also help you with that."

The room was silent. Ron's face continued to turn more and more the color of his hair as he held his breath.

"I see him almost every night." Harry whispered as he took his seat again, staring blankly into the fire. "He comes to me while I lay in bed, before I get to sleep. I know it's not him. I know it's the darkness in my own head speaking to me. But it looks like him, it sounds like him, even the fucking jokes are the same."

"Harry..." Ron whispered.

"How could you possibly need me right now?" Harry said, his eyes traveling up to Ron's. "Each and every day, I'm visited by more people. Most of the time, I can tell that they're fake. Of course, I still talk to them, still indulge the image. But sometimes, I don't realize that they're dead. Sometimes, Kreature catches me talking to air, sobbing into nothing, apologizing to your brother or my mother or whoever else appears."

Slowly, Harry stood, coming face-to-face with Ron. Unfortunately, he felt sober so before he spoke, he finished the bottle he was holding.

"I've come to terms with the fact that I'm slowly going insane." Harry said plainly, as if he were discussing the weather. "Something inside me is broken and right now, the only way I've figured out how to momentarily mend it is copious amounts of alcohol and Dreamless Draught. Unless I figure something else out, I'm going to spend the rest of my life either drunk or crazy or both. Do you think I want to do that here? Do you think I want to be trapped in the same house that Sirius was trapped in?"

"Of course we don't." Hermione replied.

"I'm leaving, Ron." Harry said, his words finally starting to slur. "I'll let you know where I end up. Maybe I'll send you a postcard."

The result of the war laid out on the table for everyone to see, Harry turned and made to walk out of the room, likely heading for his bed. Unfortunately, Ron had the inspiration to speak once more.

"You coward." Ron spat.

Even drunk, Harry had to laugh at the irony of the scene before him. Despite the fact that he still hated him, Harry couldn't help but think about the fact that word was the one he had used to describe Snape as he ran from Hogwarts on the night he killed Dumbledore.

It was also a word that Harry had muttered about Ron during his angrier moments after he had abandoned them.

Even though Harry found the irony humorous, he felt consumed by another emotion.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked as he slowly wheeled on Ron.

"You're a coward." Ron growled as Hermione sputtered next to him, begging him to stop. "You think this is how they would want you to live? All those people you see?"

"Ron, you're on thin ice."

"Thin ice?" Ron replied incredulously. "They gave their lives for you! They died for you! You're going to repay that by running away?"

"I repaid it by kill Voldemort, you bastard!" Harry bellowed, his wand suddenly in his hand. Harry noticed that Hermione was no longer at Ron's side. Instead, she had faded to the corner of the room. "I repaid it by walking into that forest! You go ahead and call me a coward if that makes you feel good. Do you know what it's like to walk, willingly, to your death?"

"You act like we didn't know that we were doing that when we went with you in the first place." Ron said, attempting to counter with something similar. Unfortunately for Ron, Harry wasn't having any of it.

"That's different and you know it." Harry snapped back. "There's figuratively walking to your death and then there is quite literally walking to your death. One foot in front of another knowing that with each step, you are taking time of a timer. When that timer reaches zero, you die."

"Yet here you stand, alive and well."

"Do I look well? Sure, I'm alive but at what price? There's part of me that wishes that I could have come back, killed Voldemort and then just faded into nothing."

It was the first time that Harry had every expressed that particular desire aloud and it frightened him. He was afraid of going insane and he was terrified of the visions that came to him but he had never thought of himself as suicidal.

"They would have wanted you to have a life, Harry." Ron whispered. "All of them."

"I'm warning you-"

"They would have wanted you to become something more than a drunken mess."

"Good for them! I'll make sure to tell them that the next time I see them which should be sometime this evening!"

"What have you tried other than booze? Anything? Mate, I know that I'm not the greatest at these kind of things but Hermione and I, we care about you. We both hoped that you would snap out of this. We knew it wouldn't happen instantly, even I'm not that dull. But try something. Go talk to someone, go kill some Death Eaters, destroy something, play Quidditch: do whatever it takes to at least try and work through this. If none of that works, then I can understand hiding. If nothing works, then disappearing is absolutely a great option. But fucking do something!"

"You think I haven't done anything?"

"Other than push away every person who cares about you and then come here to drink yourself do death, no I don't!"

"Who did I push away?"

"Ginny, me, Hermione, my family-"

"Your family wants nothing to do with me anymore, remember?" Harry growled. "After your brother's little speech, he gave them the 'him or me' ultimatum. They chose."

"Harry, you have to understand something about George. You see, my brother-"

"Oh fuck your brother." Harry roared. "Your brother thinks that he's the only one that was affected by this. Guess what? He can go to hell."

Suddenly, Ron snapped, diving at Harry's midsection and tackling him to the ground. However, that only lasted for a second as Harry was easily able to take the momentum of the impact and turn over on top of Ron.

Standing up, Harry could hear Hermione in the distance, screaming, begging the pair of them to stop. But the only thing that Harry could really hear was the blood pounding in his ears. Once they were both up, Ron charged him again.

This time, Harry was ready. With a single motion, Harry was able to grab Ron by the front of his shirt, swinging up like a rag doll and throwing him into the wall. Instantly, Harry could hear a crack and when Ron turned around, the blood rushing from his nose was evidence enough of a broken nose.

Seeing red, Ron charged again before stopping just short of Harry to throw a massive punch. Ducking underneath the punch, Harry stepped to the side, his wand at the ready. Quickly, Ron turned and cast the first spell, a silent cutter.

With that, the gloves were off as two of the better trained wizards in the world went about the business of tearing each other limb from limb.

Unfortunately for Ron, Harry had spent the better part of a year spending most of his time reading and training. Within seconds, Harry had pushed Ron to the brink and closed in one him, sending spells at an accelerated pace from only a few feet away.

When a disarming spell hit Ron just under his own wand, it was powerful enough to nearly throw Ron off his feet while his wand flung in the air. Unfortunately for Ron, he made the mistake of watching his wand as Harry closed in.

With a single blast of rage and drink fueled power, Harry punched Ron in the side of the head, breaking his jaw the instant Harry's fist connected. Collapsing to the ground, Harry stood over his friend as he heard Ron's wand hit the ground behind him.

"You were there, Ron. You saw what it was like for all of us. You never even bothered to correct your brother. You never told him that all of those deaths weighed on me like an anchor, dragging a ship to the ocean floor."

Despite the words that Harry spoke, deep down, Harry knew that Ron was partially right. He had given up and chose not to live a life. He hid from the world and lived in a drunken stupor. When the life of an Auror turned out to be different, when he felt as if the world was working to tear him apart piece by piece, he fled.

At the time, he wasn't wrong to do. Even still, Harry felt that his behavior was perfectly warranted given the amount of unwanted attention he got after the war.

But to simply walk away forever? Why would he do that? Was the world really so terrible that it became irredeemable? Externally, Harry would say yes but internally, he knew that wasn't the case. He could have backed away without giving up so completely.

He could have sought help and did his best to work through his problems. Instead, he backed away and tried to drink himself to death.

That fact hit Harry as he stood over Ron who rolled on the floor clutching his jaw. Just then, Harry realized how far down the rabbit hole he had already traveled. Looking up at Hermione, Harry saw her cowering in the corner.

"Take him." Harry whispered softly. "Get him healed up."

"Harry..."

"We'll talk later, Hermione." Harry said, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Just go. Please." It was very unlike Harry to beg for anything but at the moment, that's what he did.

He begged her to take Ron and leave.

So she did. Within a minute, Hermione leaned down, picked Ron off the floor, gave Harry one parting look of some emotion that Harry couldn't quite identify and was gone.

Within seconds, Harry had collapsed to the floor, sobbing to himself. Ron was his best friend, one of two anyway. How did things get to the point where they were fist-fighting like children in his living room?

Do something.

That had been the motto of Ron's message before Harry had destroyed him. But what was there for someone to do who had the issues that Harry had? What could you do?

Nothing came to Harry's mind as the tears rushed forward, weeping for the answers that wouldn't come.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was leaning back in her chair when she heard the sound of the fire in her fireplace changing ever so slightly. Turning around, Hermione saw the face of Luna Lovegood shining at her, a sad smile on her face.

Just like every time they talked, Luna didn't waste time on pleasantries. It was something that Hermione appreciated greatly.

"How was he?"

"He was worse than ever before." Hermione said, her eyes closed as she remembered Harry the previous night. "He's talking about leaving England."

"What's wrong with that?" Luna asked softly. "I left England."

"You left England for an entirely different reason."

"Did I?" Luna challenged. "The war was over, my father died but the stigma of being his daughter remained. Every job that I wanted was immediately blocked once they found out who my father had been."

"There would have been something here."

"Hermione, once Papa died, I started going through his materials. I was in Ravenclaw for a reason. The research that he had been doing for years was fraught with stretches in logic and poorly conceptualized conclusions. He was quite literally making things up."

"Yes, Luna, we know that." Hermione replied with a chuckle.

"I didn't." Luna said sadly. "Even still, I couldn't find it in my heart to throw Papa to the wolves so that I could get a job. I could have said that I didn't believe any of his rubbish and that he was a fool. But he was my father, I couldn't do that to him, even if he was dead."

"So you left."

"So, I left." Luna repeated. "No one knows of Xenophilius Lovegood here. Luna Lovegood is simply a well-respected researcher specializing in Muggle myths and their magical roots."

"How does this relate to Harry?"

"Harry has the same kind of weight hanging over his head. The difference is that weight is himself. Everyone knows who Harry Potter is and what he's done. So, Harry could get any job that he wanted without much effort. But most of those places are either going to exploit Harry's celebrity for profit or they're going to tuck him away and make sure that he's well taken care of without having to much work."

"Or both in the case of the Aurors."

"Exactly." Luna replied softly. "Harry is a worker. Even if Harry becomes the greatest wizard to ever live, it wasn't simply because he was talented. Talent only gets you so far after all."

"Of course."

"If Harry doesn't feel like he's being challenged, if he's not being forced to get better, it's simply not worth it for him. If the world is going to treat him like an object to be displayed and not something of value, then what's the point?"

"The Ministry obviously values him." Hermione countered. "Gawain and Kingsley both agree that we need Harry. If he feels like he needs that value, why wouldn't he be jumping up and down that they want him on a real assignment?"

"Maybe he is excited." Luna said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "However, Harry has spent his whole life fighting. If he wants some time off, I think he's earned. But I think Harry also realizes that his skill is in the kind of work. He's spent years of his life training for this kind of work and I think that terrifies him."

"How can you say this like you know Harry that well? You haven't seen him in months." Hermione did her best to keep the accusation out of her voice but was only partially successful.

"Because it's the same way I feel. Despite the fact that my father was feeding me nonsense, I've been trained to analyze myths and legends since I was five. Now, it's my life's work because it's what I'm good at. Harry's been trained to fight Dark wizards since he was eleven. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that it would be his life's work, he's obviously very good at it. But, my life's work is often boring and rarely anything more than frustrating. His life's work would be dangerous and taxing and not just on himself but on every person around him."

The more Hermione thought about it, the more it made sense. Harry obviously still enjoyed the learning and training of being a master duelist. In fact, he was still training almost everyday inside his house.

But the thought of being a Dark wizard chaser for the remainder of his life was daunting. It was easy to be afraid of where that possible line of work would take you.

"Hermione, I have to go." Luna said suddenly as she turned away from the fire. "My superior has some questions for me before we go on our hunt today."

"What's the hunt today?"

"Examining the possible magical explanations regarding the Spartan Army and the Battle of Thermopylae. Three hundred Spartans supposedly defeated thousands of Persians. We believe there may have been some wizards involved in the battle."

"Sounds exciting." Hermione replied with absolute honesty.

"Only to folks like you and me."

"Fair enough." Hermione said as Luna disappeared into the fireplace.

Their weekly conversation completed, Hermione returned to her work. For some reason, after the war, Luna and Hermione had connected on a level they never had during school. Part of it had probably been Luna's realization that her father's work was nonsensical stories told for entertainment's sake.

Part of it had been that without Harry around frequently, Hermione was looking for a friend and found it in Luna. Even after Luna became one of the staff researchers for the Greek School of Magic, they still found time each week to talk.

For several hours, Hermione sat in silence and worked. Rarely did days like this happen but when they did, Hermione relished them, working in solitude to catch up on everything she had been putting off to keep the Blood Equality Act afloat.

Which was why when someone knocked on her office door towards the middle of the day, Hermione particularly perturbed.

"Come in." Hermione almost growled as she saw Gerry walking in. "What can I do for you, Gerry?"

"Ms. Granger, there is someone here to see you." Gerry said, noticeably nervous.

"Who is it?"

"Well, it's-"

"Spit it out, Gerry." Hermione interjected, not having the time for his strange behavior.

"It's Harry Potter."

That voice wasn't Gerry's at all. It was younger, darker and somehow wearier all at the same time. Looking up from her work, Hermione saw Harry standing in the door behind Gerry, only the slightest of smirks on his face.

"Harry?"

"I know that I'm not on your schedule, I hope that's ok." Harry replied, sounding much more official that he normally would have.

"Of course. Thank you, Gerry." Hermione said, dismissing her scheduler.

"Quite welcome, Ms. Granger." Gerry said before disappearing.

Looking at Harry as he entered the room and took a seat, she could hardly believe she was seeing the same person that she had seen the night before. He had shaved the stubble that he laid on his face for months and appeared to have slept a bit, the bags under his eyes being noticeably less apparent.

"How's Ron doing?"

"You broke his jaw."

"I know." Harry replied with shame.

"I healed it up and took him back to his place in Hogsmeade. He'll be fine and eventually, he'll see you without wanting to cave in your face or set fire to your home."

"You know that wasn't what I wanted either."

"I know, Harry." Hermione said softly. "I blame the drink in your hand as much as I do. Not that it's an excuse, especially not one that I like, but for that moment, I understand. Anymore outbursts like that and we'll be having an entirely different conversation.

"I understand that." Harry said before the room went silent. Finally, Harry spoke up, starting to address what he came there for.

"I'm sorry for barging in on you like this." Harry said, his voice returning to the one he used for their personal interactions. "I wasn't sure that I was coming today."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione said, before instantly wishing she could take that back. "Not that I don't want to see you but you haven't left the house in months."

"I'm aware of that." Harry muttered. "That's what I want to talk to you about. That and the offer the Ministry sent me."

"I thought you got rid of that?"

"I'm certain the offer would still stand, correct?"

"Of course."

"Good." Harry said softly. "I think I want to take it."

To say that Hermione was speechless was bordering on the understatement of the century. Hours earlier, Harry had been seriously discussing or announcing that he was leaving England.

Now, he was sitting in her office, expressing interest in an offer that would tie him to England for months.

"But it's not that simple." Harry said softly. "As you and Ron both found out last night, I'm not even close to being healthy, mentally anyway. I have some real issues that I need to work out and I do plan on trying to do that. I think that doing this is one way that will help."

"But?"

"But, I can't be out in the field." Harry whispered. "I can lead a team, I can train a team but I can't go out there."

"Harry, the Ministry wants you to lead a team in capturing Death Eaters. Part of that includes the positive publicity the Ministry will get when you are present with a Death Eater is captured."

"I'm not considering this for publicity's sake, Hermione." Harry said scathingly. "I'm doing this because there are people out there that need stopping. People that would hurt those that I care about."

"If that's your motivation, why can't you go out in the field?"

"Because I'm not a killer."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"The way I feel right now, I think I would end up becoming one if I went out in the field to search for Voldemort's henchmen."

Things were starting to line up in Hermione's head. As the puzzle pieces started to fit together, Harry continued.

"These people are the extension of the man who caused me so much grief. They destroyed countless lives and to this day, they work to destroy my own. If I get a chance to face Rookwood or Dolohov or whoever else is out there, there's no promise that they're coming back alive. In fact, I would be willing to bet a few Galleons on them not coming back at all."

"Harry-"

"I don't want sympathy right now, Hermione." Harry said, his eyes rising to meet hers. "That's not what this is about. This is about trying to get my life back in order. For the last year, I let Voldemort continue to defeat me. He may be dead but he was slowly killing me from the inside. I want to try and reverse that."

"Do you really think it's wise to do that by chasing after Death Eaters?"

"Do you doubt my ability do it?"

"I don't."

"Do you doubt my ability to lead?"

"Never!" Hermione replied with offense. "Harry, you know I would follow you anywhere."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You've spent a year hiding from the world, Harry." Hermione said softly, coming around to the other side of the table to get closer to him. "Now, you're telling me that you intend to jump back into the part of the world that nearly destroyed you."

"It tried to. It didn't."

"Didn't it? Harry, I don't remember the last time I saw you laugh. I don't remember the last time I saw you really smile or do something just for fun."

"What's there to smile about?"

"The fact that you're alive!" Hermione shouted, kneeling in front of Harry. "Your friends, those who care about you, Quidditch, something! What is life if it isn't worth smiling about?"

For several seconds, Harry sat in silence. Then, he spoke slowly and softly.

"My life is over, Hermione." Harry muttered softly, his eyes dropping to the floor. "It ended when I beat Voldemort."

"What?"

"Since age eleven, since I found out that he was the one who killed my parents, that was the target: the destruction of Tom Riddle. I couldn't let myself see a day beyond his death. Personally, I think it's because I didn't think I would make it that far."

"Harry!"

"It's the truth!" Harry shouted before standing and beginning to pace. "What were the odds that a child was going to survive against Lord Voldemort? As it was, it was his own ego that destroyed him just as much as it was me. How could I possibly think that there was anything beyond him?"

Finally, Harry had laid it out in front of her. It wasn't just his near-death, it wasn't just the defeat of Voldemort and it wasn't just his issues with the aftermath of the war.

Harry's problems ultimately stemmed from a loss of purpose. For the last year, Harry had been lost to a world where he had no role, no place and nothing to push him further.

Simply put, Harry Potter no longer felt that he belonged in the world that he had been born and raised into.

Finally, Hermione raced over to him, placing one hand on either side of his face and pulling him so that he was eye level with her.

"You've achieved the most challenging thing anyone could have placed before a child." Hermione whispered gently. "But that doesn't make it the end of the road. You just have to find something that's going to make you happy. The past is over and done with. We have to move on."

"We?" Harry muttered as he pulled Hermione in closer, wrapping his arms around her. Suddenly, Hermione found herself at a loss for words. Even before the war, Harry had never really sought out physical contact with anyone. In fact, the only time Hermione had ever really remembered Harry touching her was that night in the tent.

They had danced.

Suddenly, Hermione realized that Harry was giving her a look that clearly spelled out his confusion at Hermione's sudden silence.

Snapping back to reality, Hermione spoke quickly.

"You're not the only one that's having a hard time, Harry." Hermione admitted before breaking away from him and returning to her desk. As she sat, she realized that she had intentionally put distance between the two of them, something that had never happened before.

Harry could try all he wanted, but he couldn't hide the fact that Hermione's distance was bothering him.

It was part of the curse of being able to read Harry Potter like one of the many books that she loved. It meant that she knew exactly when she had said or done something that had hurt him.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked as he returned to his seat across from her desk.

"It's nothing."

"Hermione."

"Harr-"

"When did we start hiding things from each other, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly, a bit of a growl in his voice. "I'm sure it's my doing. I hid just how bad things were for me over the last year from you."

"It's just not as pressing as your issues are, Harry." Hermione countered.

"They are to me. I want to get to a better place but I can't be doing that if I don't know what's going on with you."

"Why not?"

"Because I care too much about you to let that happen."

The candor Harry spoke with made Hermione slightly uncomfortable but it also made Hermione smile. Rarely did Harry voice his feelings on much of anything anymore so it made Hermione happy to know that somethings hadn't changed over the last year.

"Fine." Hermione said, acquiescing. "With you disappearing from the public eye, I was next in line."

"You mean you and Ron?"

"Well, that would be the case if not for a couple things. First, when you went to the Ministry after the Battle of Hogwarts to tell the story of our hunt for the Horcruxes, you mentioned Ron roughly thirty times."

"What's the problem with that?"

"You mentioned me nearly one hundred times and you repeatedly credited me with various achievements that helped us."

"It was the truth."

"Maybe so but it has now painted this picture that Ron was basically along for the ride. We both know that Ron has his issues but he was definitely helpful."

"While he was there." Harry said, growling slightly.

"Either way, the media is still clamoring for the deeper story. Only a handful of people know most of the story and only three of us know the complete story. Normally, they would come after both Ron and I but Ron has taken to cursing reporters that get too close."

"Good for him."

"Yes, except that means they all come to me, looking for the scoop of the century. Some of them have even taken to referring to me as The Woman who Saved Harry Potter."

The grimace on Harry's face was exactly what Hermione assumed his reaction would be.

"So now, I am a rather public figure because of my job but also because of my proximity to you. It's not a secret that you're hidden somewhere in London, enough people know about Grimmauld Place by reputation to make that impossible. People also know that I still see you and so I've had to put up a inordinate number of wards and protections around my apartment and that's considering the fact that I live in Muggle London."

"You moved to Muggle London." Harry asked. "Why?"

"Exactly for this reason." Hermione said pointedly. "I don't like having my name and my face out there anymore than you do. Thankfully, most of the media that isn't owned by Purebloods have mostly nice things to say about me, even as I continue to be standoffish towards them."

"How many are still owned by Purebloods?"

"Not many. Most of the more vocal Purebloods have fled for Eastern Europe. Of course, The Death Eaters have remained but that's because they're fanatical. They believe that this land is theirs to claim in the name of Lord Voldemort."

"Bit of rubbish, isn't it?"

"Rubbish, yes. But they're still a threat. Some of Riddle's top men may have been considered Dark Lords in their own right if he hadn't shown up to put them under his thumb."

"Yeah.." Harry said softly before standing. "Tell Kingsley that we need to talk. I'll have some demands, things that are basically non-negotiable."

"I'm sure that Kingsley will make it work."

"Good." Harry said with a rare smile.

"It's good to see you out of the house."

"It was refreshing to get out. Seems like I'll be getting a bit more exercise in the coming weeks."

"Yeah." Hermione said as Harry turned to walk out. "Oh! One thing."

"Yeah?" Harry said as he turned back to Hermione.

"I know it helps but the drink needs to disappear if you're going to do this." Hermione said softly. "This is me speaking as both my job and your friend. The last time anyone really saw you, you were drunk and combative. This is going to require you to return to the public eye and if they even get a glimpse of you with a drink, they'll have all our heads."

"Fair enough." Harry said, although Hermione could hear a bit of trepidation in his voice. "I'll make it happen."

"Then I'll let Kingsley know and he'll get in touch."

"Sounds like a plan."


	9. Chapter 9

In the days after his meeting with Hermione, Harry had been mostly true to his word. Only once had he been truly intoxicated and that had coincided with a nightly visit from Cedric Diggory, one of Harry's most vibrant ghostly apparitions.

Thankfully, when Harry got a knock on his door, he was only one drink in that particular day. Stashing his bottle and glass, Harry rose, wondering who could be at his door. Very few people remained alive who had access to Grimmauld Place after Harry had redone the Fidelius Charm on the property.

Unfortunately, Harry had made Hermione his Secret Keeper. This meant that it was possible that she had given the address to someone else, although Hermione did that at great risk. If the person at his door was someone Harry would disapprove of, he couldn't imagine the level of rage he would feel for violating his Secret.

Thankfully, it was someone that Harry knew and trusted very much.

"Harry, you're looking surprisingly sober for a man who is supposedly always drunk." Kingsley said as Harry opened the door.

"Minister." Harry said simply as he allowed Kingsley into his house. "I'm assuming I know what this is about."

"This is about several things, Harry. Firstly, I wanted to see how you were doing."

"You could have asked Hermione."

"I have. Repeatedly. Whether it be her own denial or her protection of you, she always told me that you were doing well minus the increased alcohol consumption."

"I've never known Hermione to lie to those she respects but-"

"She may respect me, Harry, but her loyalty will always be to you first." Kingsley said softly as he took a seat next to Harry in his sitting room. "Don't abuse that."

"You know that I wouldn't."

"Good." Kingsley said softly before changing the subject. "Now to business. I actually have two pieces of business, quite separate, of which I wanted to speak to you. One is your meeting with Hermione, the second is not connected at first glance but may assist you with the first."

"You're sounding a bit like Dumbledore, Kingsley." Harry smirked.

"Sounding like Dumbledore and being him are two separate things, Harry. Unlike Albus, I intend to keep no secrets from you. You are now most assuredly an adult and therefore capable of making your own choices. I will give you all the information I have and then due time to make your own decisions."

"Thank you."

"You are quite welcome." Kingsley said before pulling out a collection of parchment and handing it to Harry. "To the first matter, this is a contract with the Ministry of Magic for the creation of a new anti-Death Eater task force to be operated by you. Inside, you will find the terms of your employment and the goals of the task force as set forth by Percy, Gawain and myself."

"Robards is in on this?" Harry said with disdain.

"Only in the matter that we cannot legally leave out the leader of the Aurors on a mission like this. Normally, this would be a task for them. However, since I have decided to make this a higher priority, we may end up re-purposing some of the Aurors to you to be used at your disposal."

"Great."

"Harry, this task force will be yours to oversee how you see fit with limited protest from any of us. In fact, the less we know about your business, the better."

"Why do you say that?"

Suddenly, there was a look of great discomfort on Kingsley's face.

"Because there will be a secondary task of this unit." Kingsley said softly, as if he didn't wish to be overheard by anyone. "One that will remain off the books entirely."

"That seems bothersome."

"What is bothersome is that despite the fact that we have brought in a great number of Death Eaters in the last year, the most dangerous have remained at large with almost no clue as to their whereabouts."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"The Auror Office at large will be made aware of your unit and its listed purpose. This will give you an excuse to review all the casework in relation to any Death Eater, captured or at large."

"Kingsley," Harry said, matching the lack of volume in Kingsley's voice. "It sounds very much like you are asking me to spy on the Auror Office."

Suddenly, Kingsley's voice returned to the voice he had heard on the radio, the one he used when he was making public addresses.

"I would never ask anyone to do that." Kingsley said firmly before his voice dropped again. "However, if you did happen to find some information in those files that led to uncovering a mole inside the Aurors that has been helping Death Eater remain abreast of the law, that wouldn't be discouraged."

Despite the fact that the language sounded a bit too much like Umbridge for Harry's liking, Harry obviously understood the implication of Kingsley's tone and words.

"That would be helpful." Harry said before motioning to the contract. "I'll review it and let you know what I think. I will probably have some modifications to make before I sign it."

"I assumed you would." Kingsley said with a smile before pulled out a small package and a large scroll of parchment. "Now, to the second matter."

"What is that for?"

"In due time, Harry." Kingsley said with a grin. "Now, as you know, the Wizengamot has had a committee investigating a variety of claims involving the Second Wizarding War."

"Yes."

"This committee was also investigating the claim by you that Severus Snape, despite large amounts of evidence to the contrary, was working for The Order of the Phoenix at the time of his death."

In the months after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Golden Trio had been submitted to several weeks of testimony about their roles in the War. While some parts of their journey never made the public record (for instance, according to the public, Harry had never been to Godric's Hollow or Malfoy Manor. To the contrary, all three had admitted their roles in the Gringotts break-in), most of their time on the run had been submitted to the Ministry so they could better understand the timing of events.

Three whole days Harry had spent in front of the Wizengamot detailing just the hours leading up to and including the Battle of Hogwarts with the last day detailing his visit to Dumbledore's office and his defeat of Voldemort.

His march to the Forest had remained absent from the conversation.

For hours, Harry repeated the visions the Pensieve, detailing the story of Severus Snape. At the end of his time, he was certain that he had made no impact on the committee and their findings would find Snape at fault for a large part of the war.

"I'm aware."

"They have agreed with your findings."

"Excuse me?" Harry said in shock.

"They have concurred that Snape was, in fact, working for Albus as a double agent. Your testimony plus the words of your companions put the bug in their ear, so to speak. From there, they went about investigating every part of Snape's life. After several periods of negotiation with the goblins, they were able to receive and execute the Last Will of Severus Snape. In it was this."

With those words, Kingsley held up the small package he had previously withdrew from his bag.

"Of course the Ministry took its usual thirty day period to examine it. This proved to the committee that you were telling the truth."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you." Kingsley said as he unrolled the parchment. "in Severus' own words."

Kingsley spent several seconds scanning the parchment before finding his place.

"To Harry James Potter, I leave my personal journal upon his coming of age. At this time, this entry of the will may be executed and relayed to Potter. I started this particular story during my first years as a Death Eater in the Dark Lord's service. If my death has occurred before the Dark Lord's demise, then it is my wish that you use the information inside to end his murderous reign and understand my motivations more fully. If my death has been postponed until after the Dark Lord's defeat (unlikely though it may be), then let this journal serve as a pathway to understanding for the events that have framed your life...There's more about you but it is not particularly pleasant, should I continue?"

"Please." Harry said softly.

"Very well." Kingsley replied. "Potter, do not treat this gift as any kind of parlay between us. My hatred for you is not an act, a ruse to encourage the Dark Lord of my intentions to see you dead. If not for the fact that you are supposedly necessary for the defeat of the Dark Lord, I would have liked to see you dead years ago. Your presence is a constant reminder of the life that should have been mine, squandered by a foolish moment in my youth. If I am dead and the Dark Lord is not, I can only hope that the world has not lost Hermione Granger because without her, there is no possible hope for the world."

For a few moments, the room remained still. Finally, Harry spoke.

"Has the rest of that will been executed?"

"There is hardly anything in it." Kingsley said softly. "The rest of it simply instructs the Ministry to take possession of his home and donate his meager funds to Hogwarts."

"Good." Harry said before waving his wand. In a flash, the parchment leapt from Kingsley's hands and into the fireplace in front of them. Harry stood and watched, the fire reflecting in his eyes, as the will burned until it was nothing but ash.

"Good riddance." Harry growled. "You always were a miserable bastard. Rot in hell."

Next, Harry grabbed the package out of Kingsley's hand, ripping open the packaging to reveal a pristine black journal that oddly reminded him of Tom Riddle's.

For a second, Harry nearly threw it in the fireplace as well. At the last minute however, Harry was able to avoid that instinct and placed the book on the table in between himself and the Minister.

"I thought you were going to burn that as well."

"I considered it."

"Honestly, if half the reports about his treatment of you are true, I wouldn't blame you."

"Throwing that in the fire now means that even in death, he wins." Harry growled. "As much as I may respect him for what he did for us, I fucking hate him."

"Can't say I blame you there." Kingsley said as he stood. "So you'll give that contract a look and let me know?"

"As soon as can."

"Very well." Kingsley replied with a smile and a firm handshake. "I'll see myself out."

As Harry watched Kingsley walk out of the room, his eyes fell back onto the black book. Sitting down, Harry took the book in his hand, flipping through the pages slowly. Even though Harry wasn't reading any of the words on the page, he could still make out the same eloquent cursive that had always adorned the Potions Chamber (and later the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom) of Hogwarts Castle.

But mostly, Harry had remembered the scrawl for the countless notes found in Advanced Potion-Making. For nearly a year, Harry had stared at the notes etched in the margins, in the spaces between words, even overlapping with the words already printed. Secretly, Harry had memorized most of the notes, marveling at the obvious talent of the wizard who had changed so much of his own textbook.

For months, Harry had wondered who the Half-Blood Prince had been. However, the curiosity wasn't out of the desire to meet the author or to fawn over him. It was discover as much as he could about someone who was obviously so adept at magic. Certainly the notes about potions were helpful in class but they had little practical use for Harry. But the other notes? They certainly were helpful especially when it came to Harry's hunt for the Horcruxes.

In the end, Harry's borderline worship of the Prince had been for naught.

In the end, Harry was left with nothing but the foul taste of greasy hair in his mouth.

In the end, The Half-Blood Prince was none other than the person he hated most, Professor Severus Snape.

The man who murdered Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was his idol. Even to this day, even after learning all he had about Snape's life and his devotion to Dumbledore, it still caused his heart to burn with hatred. In fact, learning about Snape's true allegiance had almost caused Harry to hate Snape more.

If Snape had been a true Death Eater, loyal to Voldemort until the end, then life would have been easy. Harry could have hated Snape until his own dying day and then greeted Death with clarity knowing that he had been right.

Now? He still hated the Potions Master but it was significantly more complicated. He had been helping Dumbledore. He had loved his mother. That love had been his motivation for switching sides and joining The Order. But, he had treated Harry with as much scorn as possible.

How was that supposed to be normal?

Setting the book down, Harry vowed not to open it. It would sit there for the rest of time, a possible message of peace between the two left unopened.

What could it bring but more pain? More heartache? And if it truly told the story of Lord Voldemort, what good could that bring him? He was trying to get out of the past, not dive back into it.

No, it would be better to leave it be and never look upon it again. In fact, it might even be better to burn it after all.

That attitude had lasted for about a week. Curiosity and boredom won out as Harry had not much to do until Kingsley replied with a time for their first meeting to discuss Harry's possible return to the Ministry.

Finally, Harry broke and read the first words inside.

This journal belongs Severus Snape

Potions Master 1981-1996

Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor 1996-1997

Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchraft and Wizardry 1997-?

Of course, Severus Snape would list his accolades at the beginning of a journal that only he and Harry were going to read. Ignoring the sheer arrogance of this, Harry started with the first entry.

November 1978

I know most of those around me. Despite being the newest branded member of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, I have known most of the rest of them since I was brought into the wizarding world. Rosier seems to believe that since he joined the ranks before me that he is somehow superior. Thankfully, that is not how the Dark Lord operates. The Dark Lord sees talent, recognizes it for what it is and puts it to work.

As a result, I have already begun my first assignment for Him. Even in these pages, I cannot reveal the details of the mission, should this book ever fall into the wrong hands. Eventually, I will seek to create a way to sufficiently protect the words in this journal from the wandering eyes of the world. Then and only then will I be able to leave the full details of my memoir to the world.

"His memoir?" Harry thought aloud. "You thought that someone was going to be writing a book about you? What a pompous ass."

The only people in the world who know the details of my mission are myself, Bellatrixand the Dark Lord. For the life of me, I cannot see why He places His trust in Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix is the weakest example of the power of Slytherin House. She may possess the ideals of a true Pureblood but she lacks the subtlety to make them possible. She has an almost Gryffindor-like stupidity when it comes to attacking first and asking questions later. Whereas I plan meticulously to ensure that I never have to raise my wand, Lestrange wanders around England firing off her wand at anything that moves! The Dark Lord intends to move in the shadows but that is fairly challenging to do when his top enforcer is running around murdering people in broad daylight!

Turning the page, Harry's eyes scanned down to the middle of the page where only one sentence was written.

I saw her again.

Despite the content of the rest of the text, Harry knew exactly who she was. The rest of the content only confirmed it. Looking over to the next page, Harry continued reading.

They were in Diagon Alley as I exited Gringotts as part of my first mission for the Dark Lord. He was there.

She looked so happy. Is it wrong for me to wish her unhappy? If she had chose anyone else, I might not even care. But she didn't choose just anyone.

No.

Not only did she reject me, but she chose the one man that I couldn't bear to see her with. The one man that still taunts me in my sleep, laughs at me. Of all the people in all the world, James Potter was the one she chose.

I hear they are to be married in January, just after the first of the year. In all reality, I should be happy for her. She was my first and only friend after all. Lucius may be a friend but there's too much business between the two of us for us to ever truly be friends. Sure, we may publicly play the part but in private, we are less friends than associates.

They saw me despite my best efforts. It was then that I realized that seeing them together, as painful as that had been for me, wasn't the worst thing I would see that day.

It was the look in her eyes when she saw me. For a second, there was something.

Then, there was only hatred. She saw me first and when he saw the change in her, he looked as well. Unlike her, there was no rage in his eyes.

Only glee. With a glorious wink, he turned, leading her away from me. I stood frozen in place until the pair of them faded from sight. Finally, I turned and Apparated home. For the rest of the evening, that split second was burned into my memory.

What had that been? Was it love? Pity? Remorse? But then, I realized that it no longer mattered. Because that initial reaction was burned away and replaced by something far more powerful.

Hate.

In that moment, I knew I had lost her forever. And so, with more hatred for myself than she could ever muster for me, I move on.

Tomorrow, I will finish my first mission for the Dark Lord.

Long live the Dark Lord.

At first, Harry's reaction was one of disgust. To see Snape so happily gloat about his new role among the corps of Death Eaters was one thing. To see it so closely followed by a much larger section about Snape's feelings for his mother nearly made Harry want to vomit.

However, when he let everything sink in, Harry felt differently.

In the time it took Harry to read this short passage, something had happened. This look into a younger Snape's mind had changed Harry. While Harry still hated Snape with all he could, he realized that he was also fascinated by this.

It was because this didn't sound like Snape at all. Just twenty years earlier, Snape had sounded much like him, lost in the world.

Just like himself, Snape was at a crossroads.

Closing the book, Harry placed it next to him. He would take his time reading the journal, just one entry every few days. But maybe Snape had finally found a way to help him that didn't result in him being a complete asshole.

So, with one entry read in a book with hundreds, Harry drudged up the stairs to the master bedroom where he quickly fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamed about the day that Snape had mentioned. Over and over, Harry watched as Snape was rejected by his mother and taunted by his father.

When Harry awoke the next morning, ready for his meeting with Kingsley, Harry couldn't help but wonder whether he was happy or upset by the images that visited him in his sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry's decision to start reading created a curiosity in him. One that could only be sated by continued consumption of Snape's tome. He started reading again the next morning.

January 1979

In such a short amount of time, The Dark Lord has recognized my increasing talent and rewarded me for it. For most, the task he has given to me would seem banal. But most of the world are simpletons, too stupid to realize when an opportunity has been given to them.

The Dark Lord has demanded that I write a book, His book. Over the course of the next few years, he will allow me to know some of his most important secrets. With this information, I will write a book detailing the history of our Lord. This book will be used for generations of future Death Eaters, a guiding light for those who will follow the ideals of the Dark Lord or perish in defiance.

I am mocked by the rest for my task. They still believe me to be less, weaker. What they do not realize is that as great an honor as this is, it is also a great opportunity. The Dark Lord is going to reveal to me the methods of which he gained his monumental power. With this information, I will become more powerful than they could possibly imagine. With this, I will be able to become the true right hand of His reign, a weapon of great wrath with which the Dark Lord will rule not just Britain, but all of the world.

To assist me in my task, the Dark Lord has graciously allowed me to take notes, which I will also write in this journal. They will be dictated exactly in the words of our great Leader.

The Dark Lord's Tale

Severus, only in these sessions will I allow the use of my given name. If this information is passed on to anyone else, you will know a most painful death.

Legally, I was born Tom Marvolo Riddle. That name lasted until my twentieth birthday. For two years after I graduated from Hogwarts, I worked at Borgin and Burke's, a shop in Knockturn Alley. During my time there, I was given complete control over my work schedule. Therefore, it made it quite easy to disappear for weeks at a time, only to return with no questions asked of me.

For two years, I worked until, within one week of each other, two separate events necessitated my permanent leave from England. The first was my murder of Hepzibah Smith, an old and lonely woman. In her possession, she kept a cup that had been previously owned by Helga Hufflepuff. In my youth, I held an obsession with Hogwarts and its founders.

This meant that I had to have the Cup by any means necessary.

Therefore, I killed the old woman and framed her house elf. He was killed and I was free to leave.

From that date forth, no one ever heard of Tom Riddle again.

Upon my departure from England, I went to Albania. Earlier in that same week as my taking possession of the Cup, a man had entered Borgin and Burke's with a very strange tale.

He said that somewhere deep in the woods of Albania was an overgrown thicket. The life there grew hundreds of times faster than the rest, blocking out the sun entirely. He also said that anyone who had entered the area had come away confused of their purpose for being in the woods in the first place.

Being as knowledgeable as I am, I was well aware of another story pertaining the woods of Albania, specifically the story of Rowena and Helena Ravenclaw and their Lost Diadem. The gist of the story goes that in a fit of jealousy, Helena stole the Diadem and disappeared. Where she and the Diadem went, no one knows.

Of course, that's the story that the public knows. I, however, know the rest of the story, coaxed from the Grey Lady, the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw herself. She took the Diadem to Albania to hide from the man who, to this day, is still only known as the Bloody Baron. He did end up finding her in Albania and killed her when she refused to return home with him.

Incidentally, he killed himself soon afterwards over what he had done.

More importantly, with the younger Ravenclaw's death, the world foolishly thought the Diadem lost. But, with the Grey Lady's return to Hogwarts, the Diadem's location was still out there and I alone managed to get it from her.

With my presence no longer needed in Britain, I stole away to Albania and quickly found the Diadem, using it for my own purposes. (Note: The Dark Lord is inspecific here. I must inquire further in order to ensure that his account is perfect.)

At this point in my life, I was at a crossroads. I was not yet in the position I required to take control of Britain but I was also not interested in returning. So, I wandered from Albania to Bulgaria where a renowned expert in the Dark Arts was rumored to live. It was there I would spend the next few years but that is for another day.

The Dark Lord's story is compelling, even at its very beginning. Of course, I must be careful with the information that has been given to me. If anyone else knows the secrets of The Dark Lord, I will be dead as will the mythology of our Leader.

Potter's name appeared in the newspaper again today. Somehow, despite the lack of actual substance to any of his work, Potter has become a staple of the magical science community. How this is possible, I'm not sure. Potter has no remarkable skill in his field. His work is shallow and doesn't seek to answer any real questions.

And yet, another one of his "discoveries" was quoted in the Prophet today with Cuffe blabbering on for nearly three pages on the fact that Potter has seemingly invented a new spell. Nevermind the fact that the spell that he created was a modified version of the Muffliato spell that I created in my fourth year but the scope of his version is so limiting that it is almost laughable. Instead of being able to block out an entire room, his spell works on only one person.

Despite all the proof that I am a superior wizard, she remains with Potter. This fall, I am to be the youngest Potions Master in the history of Hogwarts and the second youngest Head of House behind only Dumbledore himself. Yet she remains with a pathetically average wizard.

All because of one word.

One word uttered over three years earlier in a moment of inexplicable weakness.

A weakness caused by James Potter, the man whom she then came to love.

If not for that day, she would be mine. I know this to be true. She loved me before that day and I loved her. She didn't know it yet but eventually, we would have been together.

If not for Potter, if not for his pathetic group of friends and if not for one word, she would be with me, not an amazingly untalented wizard.

At this point however, I do have one silver lining. Within the year, the Dark Lord will control Britain. She will walk away from Potter and back to me when she sees just how powerful I am. When she sees that I am in the Dark Lord's inner circle, one of his chosen, she will return.

At that point, she won't have much of a choice. If she won't be mine, the Dark Lord will do what he does with all Muggleborn. I desire more than anything for an alternative to this option. However, the Dark Lord does not tolerate those who oppose him. He does not leave anyone who opposes him alive.

I will stop that from ever happening.

She will be mine.

"Why the hell am I reading this?" Harry said as he threw the book down in disgust. "So I get to learn the exact nature of just how much Voldemort can lie to Snape? Great!"

Standing up, Harry went to the window in the sitting room, drawing it open for the first time in months to look outside. This window looked out on the small yard behind his house. Thankfully, he had charmed the yard to trim itself so there was no jungle out there but instead a peaceful tract of land in the middle of Muggle London.

"Of course, there's always the great side of getting to read about how Snape was briefly okay with my mother dying instead of going his great crusade. That's also just wonderful."

"Keep reading, Harry."

"Sirius, I realize that this is your house but I do not need to hear from you right now, ok?"

"I'll keep that in mind." Sirius said as he appeared just out of the corner of his eye. "But keep reading."

"Why would I do that?" Harry asked, turning to face his ghostly godfather. "All I get to hear is Death Eater propaganda or how much he loves my mother and hates my father."

"Do you think all of that is going to stay the same?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Because your mother is dead, Harry."

"Thanks for the reminder." Harry said dryly. "I had almost forgotten."

"As important as this event was for you, it may have been equally as important for Snape and in turn, for the odds of defeating Voldemort. If Snape had loved anyone other than your mother, then there is information we never would have gotten, things we never would have been able to do to defeat Voldemort."

"You don't believe that. Someone would have figured it out."

"I do believe that. I may have hated him but knowing what you know now, there is some part of me that respects him. I know that we couldn't have won the war without him. In fact, there's something to be said that he is just about as responsible for Voldemort's demise as you and Dumbledore."

"Bite your tongue."

"If we don't have Snape's information, Dumbledore can't plan and you can't act. Without Snape's info, we have no plan and we can do absolutely nothing."

"You may be right but that doesn't make me like it."

"Snape may be a greasy git but that doesn't mean there's nothing you can learn from him."

"That's rich coming from you."

"Think about this, Harry. When your mother died, Snape changed. Sure, he became more of a bastard than I thought possible, but his allegiances changed. He went from being a diehard Death Eater to a lifelong believer in Dumbledore."

"Your point?"

"There's a similarity there, between you and him. How he dealt with the death of your mother and how you're dealing with your loss of purpose, there's a connection that can be made there, a similarity."

"And I can learn something from this, I'm assuming? At least that's what you think."

"Remember, Harry, I'm just part of your subconscious. If it's something I think, it's something you think too."

Suddenly, a voice spoke out from behind him.

"Who are you talking to?"

Snapping out of his stupor, Harry turned to see Hermione standing in the middle of his sitting room, her eyes filled with worry.

"It's not important."

"Don't say that, Harry. I knew that you weren't doing well but until that night with Ron, I had no idea. None of us did."

"There was a reason for that."

"Reason or not, we can't go back. I can't go back." Hermione said, stepping towards him, the plea not hidden in her voice. "I have to help you. I have to try at least and if that means that I have to move in with you and watch you every second of every day, then I'll do it."

"As much as that means, that won't be necessary." Harry said flatly.

"You say that but you're also hiding a lot from me right now. When did we start doing that?"

"When was I ever capable of keeping anything from you?" Harry said, turning back to face Hermione fully. "Even if I wanted to keep something from you, I can't. There's been plenty that I've wanted to keep from you."

"Like what?"

"Like my dreams fifth year. Like my detentions with Umbridge, my lessons with Snape. Basically all of fifth year that happened without your presence I wanted to keep from you."

"Why?"

"Because I would have rather dealt with it on my own." Harry said before realizing that wasn't quite true. "Because I wanted to keep you from worrying, to keep you safe. The less you knew, the less curious you could be."

"Why would you want to stop me from being curious?" Hermione said in offense. "My curiosity helped us a lot!"

"It also ended with you in the Hospital Wing second year!" Harry countered. "It's not always been a good thing, Hermione."

"Yes, because you never ended up in the Hospital Wing."

"I just didn't want you to get hurt because of me." Harry said softly before walking away from the window. Taking his seat, Harry grabbed Snape's journal and placed it in his lap. "Can we talk about something else?"

"I suppose." Hermione said as she sat next to him, although Harry could tell she was disappointed. "What are you reading?"

"Snape's journal." Harry said simply.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Snape's will was executed last week and he willed me his journal."

"Well, what's in it?"

"I've only read a couple entries so far but it appears to be that Snape was going to write the propaganda book for Voldemort. He's taking down the story of Voldemort's life so that way Snape can edit into a book for public consumption."

"Well, that's interesting at least."

"Yeah, I guess, once I get through the repeated bits about my mum."

"What?"

"Snape basically talks about three things: how much he loves being a Death Eater, transcribing Voldemort's words and my mother. So far, my mother seems to be his favorite topic."

"When was the last entry you've read?"

"January 1979."

"How often does he write in it?"

"Seems to be every few months." Harry said softly.

Hermione paused for a few seconds. "I think you should keep reading."

"Why? If I wanted to hear about my mum, I could ask people that actually knew her."

"Snape knew her, Harry. You said it yourself that they were best friends through their fifth year."

"Yes but this is after their time at Hogwarts. Snape doesn't know a thing about my mother on a day to day basis."

"No, but in his mind, he probably still does."

"That's for sure."

"Then you need to keep reading."

"Why?"

"Because eventually, it's going to get to your parents' death."

"Don't you mean my mother's death." Harry snapped.

"For Snape, yes." Hermione said softly. "I just think that you are really struggling with something right now and for the first time in our time together, I can't think of a way to help you."

"So diving into Snape's mind seems like a good option?"

"Snape did great things for us, Harry. Even if he was a pompous ass-"

"Which he was."

"Still, he had to deal with the greatest tragedy of his life to go back to become productive. It isn't a perfect comparison with you now but you've also been through a tragedy of sorts. To most, the Battle would have been a success but we both know that you don't think of it that way."

"People died, 'Mione! How the hell is that supposed to be a success!?"

"Because you defeated him! You ended the threat, the largest one anyway. Now, the odds of people dying as a result of Death Eaters is so much smaller! Yes, some people died but they died to ensure that no one else would have to."

"I guess."

"Either way, you view the Battle of Hogwarts as a defeat in the same way that Snape viewed your mother's death as a defeat."

"My mother's death WAS a defeat!"

"Yes but it was a victory in another respect. Your mother and father died so that Voldemort could disappear for nearly fourteen years. Without their deaths, Voldemort's reign would have continued on unchallenged. Without their deaths, with your mother's death, you would never have been able to defeat Voldemort."

As usual, Hermione was right. After all of these years, he shouldn't have been surprised that she was right. Shaking his head slightly, Harry turned to look at Hermione who was staring right at him.

"Keep reading. At the very least, you learn more about Voldemort. Maybe that can get you some closure if Snape's own words don't."

With that, Hermione collected her things, placed a supportive hand on Harry's shoulder and then disappeared, leaving Harry alone with Snape's journal and his thoughts.

Once she was gone, Harry's dilemma was clear. Personally, he didn't have any desire to read any more but he knew that there was a strong likelihood that Hermione was correct.

There was always a strong likelihood that Hermione was correct.

For several minutes, Harry stared at the wall across from him, debating in his mind. However, Harry knew how the debate would end. If just for the sake of sating her, Harry would read the damn book. But, Harry knew that the likelihood of her being right, that there really was something of value in the journal's pages, was also strong.

Breathing deeply and rolling his eyes to himself, Harry flipped the book open once more, filing to the next entry.

March 1980

Over a year has passed since I have written in this journal. Much has changed in that year. The most important change in my life is simple.

I have been invited to formally join the Inner Circle of Death Eaters. Of the Dark Lord's many followers, a select few are brought in on meetings of great importance. They are given more leeway to speak their mind, provided they do not question the wisdom of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord, on the briefest of occasions, will also ask members of his Inner Circle for their opinions on any number of matters.

It is this select few that will have the most influence in the coming Order. When the Dark Lord has taken control, he will pass over large portions of his domain to us which we will control by proxy.

As the Dark Lord gets ever closer to the realization of his great dream, the passing of his story has halted. It is ultimately an unimportant task, something that can be handled after his regime has been put in place. However, it is still a great sign of trust that the Dark Lord has placed with me.

The following is the second entry in the Dark Lord's legend.

When I arrived in Bulgaria, I made my way to the Durmstrang School for Magic. In this time, it was not yet the Durmstrang Institute and had an even higher tendency to teach Dark Magic than it currently does. To most of the Wizarding world, it was a black mark, a place where only the wicked and the ruthless went.

It was the first place that I truly felt challenged.

When I arrived at the school, I was attacked by some of the older students, a common practice by the school upon seeing any outsiders. Unfortunately for them, they were no match for me. While they were not killed, they would never attack me again.

Taking on the students gathered the attention of Viktor Karkaroff, the founder and Headmaster of Durmstrang. His son, Igor, runs the school now. I have made him a target of our further recruiting efforts on the Continent.

In any case, Viktor quickly assessed that I was a rare talent and took me in. For two years, he trained me daily, teaching me his own secrets. From there, I was given a small group of the most talented students in the school to work with. Each day, Viktor took me to the edge of my abilities, challenging me in a way that I hadn't previously been and haven't been since.

However, Viktor's most last impression on me was his death. You see, Viktor was a man of limited imagination despite his vast talent. He believed that the knowledge of the Dark Arts was enough. That knowledge would keep the world at peace, a peace created by fear. However, he did not seek to use his great power for anything other than show.

Therefore, when he discovered my desire to see Muggles place beneath Wizards, Viktor attempted to caution me. In turn, I warned him to stay clear of me once I left his school. Much like anyone else, there are those I have use for and those I do not. If Viktor sought to prevent me from accomplishing my goals, he would no longer be of use.

Finally, after two years of training and learning some of the deepest and darkest forms of Magic known to man, I desired to leave. When I found Viktor standing in my way, the decision was simple. Viktor, despite having taught me, never had the desire to use these skills against another wizard.

I, on the other hand, had no problem with that. The duel was short with the body of Viktor Karkaroff vaporized from existence, his ashes lying in a pile on the floor of the Entrance Hall.

That was the first true murder committed by Lord Voldemort.


	11. Chapter 11

August 1980

Earlier this year, I overheard a prophecy by one of my future colleagues, a Seer by the name of Sybill Trelawney. Based on everything I have seen from her in my time in the castle, she is flighty and pathetic, lacking in any sort of practical ability whatsoever. Even her abilities in Diviation appear to be inconsistent at best.

However, what I saw and heard that day was a true prophecy, a sign of the future.

"The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies."

When I heard these words, I was elated. This information would certainly advance my standing with the Dark Lord. As quickly as I could, I returned to him and informed him of this development. As I had expected, I was rewarded for my efforts.

The Dark Lord, knowing all, promised me Lily's hand when his control of England had taken effect.

Then, unbeknownst to me, Lily Potter had a son.

Born Harry James Potter on July 31, 1980.

It was very clear from the early parts of the war that Lily had joined Dumbledore's Order. Both were seen active in the few defeats that the Dark Lord had suffered.

In fact, they had been involved in three separate incidents, including one where Potter managed to hit the Dark Lord with a curse before Disapparating away from the scene.

I believe that it was because of that day, because of that single curse, that he chose the Potter boy.

There was another boy born on the day previous, born to Frank and Alice Longbottom, who also fit the parameters of the prophecy. Frank and Alice were both Aurors and both had defied the Dark Lord more than three times.

But neither Frank nor Alice had done something as egregious as hit the Dark Lord with a spell.

That was something The Dark Lord could never abide.

So, at a meeting of the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord made it clear that Lily and James Potter were his top targets. He didn't elaborate on why but he didn't need to.

The Death Eaters simply accepted it.

The next section of the text was challenging to read for a couple reasons. Firstly, Snape had written and rewritten this section numerous times, crossing out older version of his words to be replaced with newer ones. Also, the pages were stained with water marks, the obvious signs of tears falling on the pages.

I have put her in the crosshairs of the most dangerous man to ever walk the planet. I have already gone to him to plead for her life. I knew that I risked my own life to ask, especially considering that she was a Mudblood Half-blood. However, the Dark Lord has decided to honor his word.

He will spare her, assuming she gives up her child to him.

Unfortunately, he does not know Lily like I know her. She is fair and loving. She will never give up her child in place of her. She would die before she would allow that to happen.

The question is: what do I do now? I trust the Dark Lord to keep his word but she won't give in to him. His word won't matter if she is defiant to the end.

Do I simply allow this to happen? The Dark Lord holds the key to the future of our society. In the end, wizards will become the dominant form of life in the world with Muggles as our servants. It is only a matter of time before the rest of the wizarding world catches up with his ideals.

But is it worth her life? If the magical community takes control of the world but she isn't there to see it, does it matter?

Does even asking the question matter? If he wishes her dead, then she is dead. There is no one that can oppose him...

There is one.

But going to him would be publicly declaring my rebellion from the ranks of the Death Eaters. There is no way for a Death Eater to get assistance from him without it being seen as breach in the vow that you make when you become one of his Death Eater's.

Maybe there is a way to do it quietly? Maybe there is a way to do it without anyone noticing?

I will speak to him as soon as I can.

It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when Harry finished reading the latest entry. This time, Harry hadn't had any intention of reading this late into the evening.

However, the visions of Dumbledore falling off the Astronomy Tower that had played on repeat in his head had other ideas. Waking up in the middle of night, sweating so much it looked as if he'd taken a shower, Harry had no other real options. Over the last week or so, Harry had been able to curtail his drinking significantly.

While it meant that Harry was more alert during the day, it also meant that he was hardly sleeping at all as visions of his past had come back with a vengeance.

With nothing better to do to pass the time, Harry had grabbed Snape's journal and made the journey to the sitting room on the first floor. Only lighting the lamp next to the chair, Harry had read several entries but it had been the last one that had affected him the most.

Even through reading the rest of his notes, Harry had still found it easy to see Snape as a jealous monster. Someone worth fearing and hating, despite the good that he had done.

However, this wasn't the case anymore. As much as Harry's own skins crawled to admit it, something had changed in the way Harry saw Snape.

Selfless had never been a word that Harry would previously use to describe Snape. In fact, there wasn't a single person in the world that would have used that. And yet, when faced with the possible death of his great love, he went in front of the most powerful Dark wizard in the history of the world and begged him to spare her.

Snape knew when he went before Voldemort that there was a chance that he would die. He also took the risk of infuriating Voldemort to such an extent that not only would Lily die but she would die a horrible and painful death.

Then, after watching her death, the Dark Lord would finally execute Snape in the most garish way imaginable.

Still, despite all of the possible bad that could have happened, Snape practically gave himself up for her. Then, when he heard the terms of Voldemort's agreement, Snape knew. For any other person on Earth, Snape would have considered this simply a loss.

No one else was worth the possibility of death at the hand of the Dark Lord.

But for Lily Evans, nothing was beyond the realm of possibility.

To be able to see Severus Snape, the same Snape would had written dozens of pages of Death Eater propaganda and had literally begun to take down the life of Lord Voldemort, consider asking Albus Dumbledore for help was certainly a powerful moment.

As much as he despised Snape, he could respect the sheer amount that he loved Harry's mother.

Standing, Harry made his way back to his room. Going to the window, Harry opened it, climbing out as gracefully as he could, closing it behind him. Next to the window was a ladder that rose all the way to the roof. Climbing that, Harry ended up on the roof of his home in the middle of one of the clearest nights he could remember. The last several weeks had been quite warm so Harry was glad that tonight was cooler than was normal for the season.

This was Harry's last resort. Typically, the sight of Muggle London and its neon lights and moving vehicles would keep Harry's mind away from the horrors of his past. On a normal evening up here, Harry would wander the length of the street, going from his home to one end at 10 Grimmauld, back to the other end at 22 Grimmauld and then back home.

That's what he would do on a normal night.

But tonight wasn't such a normal night. For one, Harry had had anything but a normal day. It wasn't often that one of your great childhood enemies left behind a journal detailing his love for your deceased mother whose death was largely a result of information provided by him.

The second and more pressing issue was that there was someone up there.

"Hermione?"

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she jumped to her feet. "What are you doing up here?"

"I live here! What are you doing here?"

"I—Well...You see."

"The great Hermione Granger at a loss for words?"

"Shut up, Potter." Hermione joked. "It's a long story."

"Hermione, the sun is going to come up in less than an hour. I think we're both passed the point where the length of the story matters."

"I suppose you're right on that account."

"So tell me." Harry said as he sat down where Hermione had previously sat.

"It is a long one." Hermione said as she sat next to him, leaning on his shoulder. "It's actually your fault."

"What isn't?"

"It's not what you think." Hermione said, pulling away to look at him. "Right after the Battle, I think it was a couple nights later-"

"It was three nights later." Harry said. "The night the three of us came up here."

"There had been so much attention. I don't think the three of us were in the same room for longer than an hour. You were being pushed into Ginny's arms and I think Molly was trying to glue Ron and I together."

"It was certainly a stressful time."

"So the three of us snuck away. We tried to just go to the house but I think we were all tired of being cooped up."

"I felt trapped. The number of people that I had to talk to after the Battle was remarkable. Even after the first day, I was already sick of the attention. Three days later, I was ready to explode."

"I think even Ron felt overwhelmed."

"I think after all the years, he finally understood what it was like being me for my entire life. We'd known that he'd been jealous of my fame for years, despite how much I hated it."

"I meant by Fred."

"Oh."

"Sure, the attention he got was overwhelming but that coupled with Fred's death, it was too much for him."

"Too much for all of us."

"Yeah...so anyway, we all Apparated to Grimmauld Place to get away. It was simpler when it was just the three of us. Then I think it was Ron who suggested we go to the roof?"

"Ron was drunk. I think he had more Firewhiskey that night than he's had in every other night combined."

"Well, it's the great joy of your house being hidden from the rest of the world, you can basically do whatever you want."

"True."

"So, we come up and just talked about Hogwarts and Seamus' particular proclivity for pyrotechnics and Lee's commentating on Quidditch matches-"

"And Luna's commentating." Harry muttered with a grin.

"We talked until the sun came up. Eventually, Ron passed out and it was just the two of us."

"You talk like Ron was the only one that passed out." Harry grinned. "If I remember correctly, we all woke up on the roof with you asleep on my shoulder."

"That's where I was going." Hermione scolded. "It was that morning that kind of changed everything."

"You mean the morning where we pissed off the entire Weasley family."

"Yes, that one." Hermione said dimly. "Ron was furious to see me wake up on you and Ginny had a fit when she heard about it."

"Otherwise known as the end of both of our relationships with the Weasley siblings."

"Well, not officially the end, but yes, the suspicion that both of them held for us was something they couldn't get over."

"That basically sums it up."

"Unfortunately." Hermione muttered before turning to Harry. "That night, sitting up here and talking about the day-to-day life at Hogwarts, that was the last time things were the same with the three of us. Since that morning, Ron and I started to drift further and further apart. Hell, even you and Ron have drifted apart and that's something I didn't even think was possible."

"It was always possible. He doesn't have the ability to separate his feelings for you and his feelings for me. Because I still associate myself closely with you, there is a small part of him that feels like I've made a choice, like it's either him or you."

"I don't know if it's that simple."

"It isn't and I make it seems like he's being really petty about everything and I know he isn't. Unfortunately for him, patience was never one of his best traits. I'm the same way. I didn't plan for things. I attack or I do, I don't plan."

"That's what I was there for."

"Exactly." Harry said with a smile. "But patience is something I very much need right now. I think once I'm in a better place, Ron and I will be able to be closer again. But,-"

"But what?" Hermione interjected.

"But, to me, there's something about really sticking with someone when they're in trouble." Harry said, his meaning not hidden. "He's been there and if I ever really needed help, he would have dropped anything to help. But it's not the same as what you did."

"You would do the same for me, Harry." Hermione said simply.

"I don't know if I could." Harry admitted, staring off into space. "You know there are times that I wonder if you're even human?"

"Harry!"

"I mean that in the best way." Harry smiled. "Somehow you manage to be everything to everyone. You make it look so easy."

"It's not." Hermione admitted, turning to Harry. "Why do you think I'm up here?"

"I was meaning to ask that." Harry whispered. "What are you doing up here?"

"This is the place I come when I want things to be simpler. When the three of us had a bond that we thought would never be broken and when the world seemed smaller."

"I can understand that."

"We approved the initial stages of the Blood Equality Act today." Hermione said softly. "For years, this kind of legislation has been a dream of mine. Even if we only get 80% of the bill through the Wizengamot, we'll have done more to erase the Pureblood laws on book in one bill than has ever been done before."

"Then why don't you seem happy?"

"Because I finally understand what you're feeling." Hermione countered. "This has been the one thing I've been looking forward to completing for years. I figured it would take me a decade to get it passed, not a year."

"Yes but there's always something else for you to do."

"Seems funny to hear that from you." Hermione said, the humor gone from her voice. "Isn't that what I've been telling you every single time I see you the last few weeks?"

"The difference being that my task was to murder the most powerful wizard in history whereas yours was to pass a law."

"So my goals aren't as important as yours, Harry Potter?"

"Don't you put words in my mouth." Harry said as he physically pulled away from Hermione. "That's never what I said. I said there's a difference and there is. The main difference being that if you failed at your task, you have other chances, other opportunities, anything really. If I failed at my task, I was dead."

"What's your point?"

"It's not the task itself, it's the finality of the repercussions should you fail. I think we both know that I was expecting to fail."

"Yes." Hermione said sadly. "I never would have admitted it back then but when I altered my parents' memories, I was sure that was the last time I would see them."

"So we both thought we would fail. The brightest witch of her age and the luckiest wizard in history against a historically terrifying Dark wizard are not good odds, even when you add in Ron's typical dependability to be in the right place at the right time. Even in the castle, before I went out to the Forest-"

"We don't talk about that."

"What?"

"When Ron and I saw you before you went out there, we don't talk about that."

"Why not? It's part of the night that changed our lives. Hell, I got to have a life because of that night."

"Harry, I'm serious."

"You have to tell me why, Hermione."

"I do not."

"Then how am I supposed to know why it bothers you?"

"You aren't."

"Don't play games with me, Hermione. I'm fine not talking about it but I have to know why it bothers you."

"Why!?" Hermione shouted.

"Because if it bothers you, it bothers me!" Harry countered. "That's how this works when you're close to someone, especially with as close as I am."

"Like a sister, right?"

"Yes!" Harry replied.

"So that makes you my brother?"

"Yes!"

"So I watched my brother walk off to his death!" Hermione roared, tears flowing freely. "Every suspicion that I'd had proven true in a matter of seconds. But knowing the truth wasn't the worst part. It was knowing that you were going to walk away and the next time I would see you, Lord Voldemort would be using your body as a victory banner!"

"That's not how it ended up working out."

"That's exactly how it worked out, you idiot!" Hermione bellowed, standing to start pacing. "The half-giant carries the body of the Boy Who Lived back to the castle as a testament to the power of He Who Must Not Be Named!"

"Look at me!" Harry shouted as he stood and took her face in his hands. "I'm right here. I'm alive. I'm not going anywhere."

"You still don't get it."

"Explain it to me."

"How could you possibly understand?"

"Try me."

"Who saved me from the troll?"

"What?"

"Who saved me from the troll first year?"

"Ron and I?"

"Yes, but who was the moron that jumped on its back?"

"That was me."

"Do you know what it was like seeing someone do that for you?"

"Well, I've never seen anyone else stupid enough to jump on the back of a troll?"

Hermione's response was a simple smack on the back of Harry's head before she continued.

"We became friends in that moment. The three of us. For the first year, things were pretty even between the three of us. But then came second year and third year and so on. With each year, the dynamic continued to lean. You and Ron were always best friends, that never changed. You and I, though, that was different. We started off as friends, then we became best friends, then I think in both of our heads, we became something else."

"Family." Harry whispered.

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed. "Now, I never had any siblings and neither did you. But I did have my parents to lean on."

"You're lucky to have them."

"I am." Hermione agreed. "When I sent them to Australia, that left me with only one source of family in the world: you. It's why I stayed when Ron left. Despite the fact that I had feelings for Ron, I knew I loved you."

"Loved?"

"Not that kind of love that gets people married." Hermione said sheepishly. "That kind of love a family feels for each other."

"Oh." Harry said, an uneasy pit in his stomach suddenly forming.

"Does that bother you?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all." Harry replied quickly, covering the strange feeling coming from inside him. "Continue."

"Anyway, when I sent my family away, that left me with you as the only person I really considered family. Ron has his own family, you and I: we have each other."

"That we do."

"So imagine it had been me in Hagrid's arms on that day." Hermione whispered, the tears forming slowly once more. "I think my heart stopped when I saw you. I had prayed so hard that you would find some loophole and beat him. I don't even think I believe in God and yet, I prayed. I never wanted something more in my entire life. So when Hagrid came forward with you in his arms, a part of me died with you."

"Hermione," Harry started before faltering. "I don't know what to say."

That was absolutely the truth. Despite the feelings he had for Hermione over the years, which had swayed from moments of severe dislike to moments of true love, neither of them had ever expressed anything close to what Hermione had just said. Even in their moments together where it had been just them, this kind of conversation had never occurred before.

"Well say something." Hermione said with a thin smile. "I just poured out my soul to you. I deserve something in return."

"That you do." Harry said, taking her hand in his. "I don't think I want to call you my sister anymore."

"Why not?" Hermione asked with worry.

"Because that's too traditional and our relationship is anything but traditional."

"Relationship?"

"We started being friends because I jumped on the back of a troll to save you. We have fought giant plants, a basilisk, a werewolf, three tasks of the Triwizard tournament, Voldemort, Snape and everything we encountered throughout the hunt for the Horcruxes. Throughout that time, everything changed for me. I thought I loved Cho, I thought I loved Ginny. I had two broomsticks, an escaped godfather, a deceased godfather and one Triwizard Cup. People loved me, people hated me. Ron loved me, Ron hated me. You know what was the one thing that never changed?"

"The Chudley Cannons were at the bottom of the League?"

"Did Hermione Granger just make a Quidditch joke?"

"It may be the only Quidditch reference I ever make. Enjoy it."

"I shall." Harry said before speaking again. "My question still stands."

"I don't know the answer."

"My complete faith in you." Harry answered softly. "My faith in your brains and your wit. My faith that you would be there for me when I needed it. My faith that you would keep me safe despite my best efforts to the contrary. I believe in you more than I believe in anything else. In fact, I think the odds of Chudley finishing out of the league's basement is more likely than me losing faith in you."

"Now that's quite a statement."

"It's the truth." Harry replied. "You mean the world to me, Hermione. I know I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. In fact, if you hadn't made it through the Battle, I'm certain I wouldn't be here either."

"Don't say that."

"Who else believes in me like you, Hermione? No one and with good reason! Your irrational belief in my ability to right my ship is the primary reason it may actually happen!"

"Then that's just proof you could have done it on your own!"

"But not without you, Hermione. Never without you." Harry said softly, tears of his own burning in his eyes.

"I suppose." Hermione muttered before turning to Harry. "So why are you awake?"

"Dumbledore."

"Huh?"

"If I'm awake this late in the evening, it's because someone has been haunting my dreams. Tonight, I was watching Dumbledore fall off the Astronomy Tower repeatedly."

"Harry..."

"It's really okay." Harry said, knowing that he was lying slightly. He also knew that Hermione would know that. "It happens fairly frequently. It's just something I'm going to have to deal with."

"No, it isn't." Hermione countered firmly. "This is something you need to deal with when you're awake. You need to talk to someone."

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean."

"There are things I can't share with people, you know that. The information is too sensitive. It's why we've only ever told the very broad version of our story to the public. I can't even trust some kind of therapist with that information."

"Who could you trust with it?"

"You, Ron, most of the Weasleys, Luna, Neville." Harry said, ticking the names off his fingers. "That's about the whole list."

"You trust so few people with the truth?"

"It's not that I don't trust them. It's just that the real truth, the one that involves Horcruxes and Hallows and all of that, that truth is something far more sensitive than the one we've told the world."

"I know but that doesn't mean that someone impartial can't understand the story."

"It's not the understanding I'm worried about. Imagine finding out all of this about us, something that's never been revealed to the public, and knowing that you couldn't reveal it to anyone. I think that would do some real damage to someone if it wasn't the right person."

"I suppose you're right but you still need to talk to someone."

"So I'll send a letter to Luna or talk to you or Ron or any of my friends. They're a part of the small group that already knows most of the truth."

"You already talk to me, Harry. It's doesn't seem to be helping." Hermione deadpanned.

"There's a difference between opening my mouth and speaking nothing words and actually revealing the concerns of my troubled soul." Harry countered.

"You would trust me with those concerns?"

"We've already talked about this, Hermione. I would trust you with anything."

With that, the pair of them fell silent. There was more to talk about, more to explain and more to discuss. But for the time being, they had talked enough for one night. For the time being, they were content just to sit and watch the quiet lights of London at night, knowing that they had at least one person who would never give up on them.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry woke at sunrise to find Hermione laying on his chest, her hair flowing in his face. Smiling, Harry thought briefly about what to do before spinning in place, landing softly on his bed two floors below him.

Somehow, he managed to do this without waking her up. Knowing that she must be exhausted, Harry slipped out from underneath her before covering her in several blankets. Bouncing down the stairs, Harry grabbed Snape's journal before racing back upstairs to his room, taking a seat at the chair at the end of the bed.

Seeing that Hermione was fast asleep, Harry opened the journal before him. The next several entries were much smaller than normal, as if Snape was afraid to write too much for fear that Voldemort would discover the betrayal of his thoughts and actions.

September 1981

The Dark Lord is furious. Somehow, the Potters have gone into hiding. Rumor has it that Dumbledore managed to protect them with the Fidelius Charm, making it impossible for anyone to know where they were unless they left the location somehow. Despite the fact that I've known where Potter and Lily have lived since they were married, even I have no idea where they are. All traces of their location have been wiped from my memory.

The Dark Lord is searching his ranks for a traitor. He interrogated me furiously, obviously believing that with my love of Lily, I was the most obvious candidate. After several hours of torture, he was satisfied that I was not Dumbledore's spy.

But, for once, the Dark Lord is wrong. I would do anything to save Lily and so I did the worst thing a Death Eater could possibly do: I went to Dumbledore. I went to him and pledged my service to him if only he would save her.

Anything to save Lily Evans.

In a complete change of a character, the next entry was only a few weeks later. However, Harry could see the nerves in the writings of his former teacher. There were numerous puncture marks where Snape had pressed too hard with his quill, leaving marks all over the pages. His writing, typically neat and structured, was starting to blur together, losing some of its coherence as it went on.

October 14, 1981

I have been a spy in the service of Lord Voldemort for one month. The last time there was a spy, Lord Voldemort had discovered him and tore his mind apart within three days. It had been the last time that Dumbledore had tried a double agent until myself. Thankfully for Dumbledore, my level of use was much higher than his previous spies. Having been turned by Voldemort's desire to see the love of my life murdered, I was already a well placed Death Eater. Now, I am a well placed Death Eater who is passing more and more information to the Order of the Phoenix each day.

Either way, the Dark Lord remains confident that he will find the Potters. He has asked me to continue his story. The following are the words of Tom Marvolo Riddle, a resource to be used against him.

After leaving Durmstrang, I made a personal choice not to stay in one place for too long. First, I made my way to Tibet. For years, I had heard rumors of a group of wizards high in the Himalayas that had the ability to fly without broomsticks. For the image that I wished to create, I knew that this ability would be essential. It took me nearly a month to get there, seeking to avoid ways of magical travel so that my presence could not be traced. Having left England and Bulgaria far behind me, I had no knowledge of any possible criminal investigations into the wake of bodies that I had left behind.

When I arrived in Tibet, I introduced myself for the first time as Lord Voldemort. Immediately, they were taken by my figure and growing power. I started training the next day and each day for the next eight months. When my time there was done, I had learned the ability to suspend myself in the air without the use of a broom. It is little more than a particularly challenging combination of spells. Individually, they are simple enough to cast. However, to do so in such a way that makes it appear that you are truly flying and without incantations is something that no one but the most exceptional wizard can accomplish.

To prevent them from passing on their information to anyone else, they were all executed in service of Lord Voldemort.

Next, I made my way to a small town in Nigeria. My interest in the magic of Dark Fire had been piqued during my time in school but there were no known practitioners in England. My research during my time at Hogwarts had led to one name: Ayo Rufaro, an elderly woman. Despite her advanced age, her magic was impressive and her control over Fiendfyre nigh perfect.

I was there for six months. At that time, I perfected the skill and her fate became the same as the Tibetan wizards.

Finally, I crossed the Atlantic Ocean and went to the United States. Specifically, I found a man by the name of Pierre Lebeau in New Orleans. Lebeau specialized in the magic of Legilimency, the art of entering the mind of another. I had already mastered Occlumency but its counterpart was banned in Europe. For almost three years, I stayed in New Orleans, learning the art. Lebeau was a particularly frustrating instructor. He respected my power but I believe also knew that his fate was tied to the length of time it took him to teach me.

Finally, he declared that he had taught me everything I knew. He too was killed with the honor of serving the Dark Lord.

During these years, I learned much about the Dark Arts, much more than the specific skills I sought to learn to complete the image of Lord Voldemort. By this point, it was summer of 1953 and I would go the one place that no one would have dared look for me.

I returned to England.

"Harry?"

Looking up from his book, Harry saw Hermione sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"How did you sleep?"

"Good." Hermione muttered. "How did I get here?"

"I Apparated you down here a little while ago. I figured I would let you sleep."

"What have you been doing?"

"Absorbing a little bit more of Snape's journal." Harry said softly.

"Where are you at in the timeline?"

"My parents have gone into hiding on information from Snape that they're in danger. Snape continues to act as Voldemort's scribe."

"Is it weird reading it?"

"Weird doesn't even begin to describe it, Hermione." Harry grinned. "I'm reading the words of the man who I hated most growing up-"

"More than Umbridge?"

"Maybe not more than her, but definitely for longer." Harry grinned. "Anyway, he's writing about how much he'll do anything to protect my mother. Then, in the next breath, he's working on the memoir of Tom Riddle. Although, I did notice one wrinkle in the last entry."

"What was that?"

"For the rest of the journal, Snape refers to Riddle as either Him, He or The Dark Lord. In the last section, he refers to him as Lord Voldemort. He uses the name."

"It shows just where his loyalties lie."

"It's not with Dumbledore."

"But-"

"Dumbledore happens to be interested in keeping my mother alive but that's the only reason Snape joins him. If neither had particularly cared, I honestly believe that he simply would have gone off on his own to protect her."

"He loved her."

"He did in his own twisted way." Harry admitted. "I'm just not sure I want to keep reading."

"How close are you?"

"This entry was mid-October. I doubt he had time to write again until afterward."

"I know it will be hard but I think you need to read it."

"What good is it going to do? I know that he loved my mother, I know that her death basically ruined his life and I know that he stayed with Dumbledore because of her. Do you think it's going to get me to think of him as a better person because he privately mourned the death of my mother?"

"Do you want to think of him as a better person?"

"I don't want to think about him at all, Hermione." Harry growled. "I want to forget that he ever existed."

"He helped you win the war."

"So did you. What's your point?"

"I don't know that I have one." Hermione admitted. "Without him, we don't win the war."

"Yes, you've said this part before, Hermione. What's different this time? What new information do you have that should make me change my opinion on this? More than Umbridge, more than Bellatrix, more than Voldemort himself, I hate Snape."

"More than Voldemort? More than the man who killed your parents?"

"It was never personal for Voldemort. He picked me because of my parents and because of blood. Umbridge picked me because I was the one who was telling the story of Voldemort's resurrection. Bellatrix just followed Voldemort. She didn't care if she killed Sirius, Neville, you or me."

"What does this have to do with Snape?"

"Snape basically tortured me during the first six years of my youth."

"You weren't the only one. He targeted others. He targeted me, he targeted Neville."

"Why did he target the pair of you specifically?"

"I honestly don't know."

"I do." Harry confirmed. "He picked you because you are Muggleborn and because you were better than the rest of the Slytherins. He wouldn't have cared one way or the other if you hadn't reminded him so much of my mother."

"What?" Hermione said in shock.

"Think about it. Muggleborn, best in your year, widely respected for your abilities and the staff of Hogwarts loved you. Sound familiar?"

"But why would that bother him?"

"Who was your best friend?"

"You." Hermione said before a look of understanding crossed her face. "You look like your father and I reminded him of your mother."

"Exactly. He didn't really go out of his way to target you until we became friends."

"I suppose you're right." Hermione admitted. "What about Neville?"

"That's simple. Neville was the other possibility for the Prophecy. Imagine if Voldemort picks Neville instead of me. We can't predict how Neville would have dealt with being The Boy Who Lived but we know that Snape likely would still be working for Voldemort."

"So you're saying he sees Neville as the representation of what his life could have been? Voldemort possibly wins but he ends up being with your mother somehow. Who could be so selfish?"

"You really are an idealist sometimes, aren't you?" Harry chuckled. "Snape treated me like dirt simply because I looked like my father. Do you really think that he wouldn't sacrifice all of England to get what he wanted?"

"I suppose." Hermione said softly. "It really does make him seem awful though."

"Remember the incident with your teeth being enlarged?"

"Yes." Hermione muttered, her voice nearly a growl.

"I rest my case."

For a few moments, the pair of them sat in silence. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"I think you need to read the next entry at least."

"Why?"

"The same reason I told you before. Snape suffered the greatest tragedy he would ever face and continued to fight through it. Sure, he didn't go about it the best way-"

"Understatement."

"He didn't go about it the best way but he continued to work against Voldemort. Do you honestly think you'll ever really recover from the Battle of Hogwarts? No one that was there will entirely. It will always be something that floats around in your head. But there are three ways you can deal with it. You can hide from it, like you are now. You could fight it but alienate the rest of the world like Snape did. Finally, you could read the book, discover where Snape was coming from and avoid becoming Snape by returning to the world and allowing it to find a place in your heart again. When you were at your best, people followed you because they believed in you. They believed in you because you loved the world and you would have given your life to protect it."

"I did give my life to protect it. I was just allowed to have it back."

"Then don't waste that gift, Harry. If it really was Dumbledore that you saw there, do you think he would have wanted you to use your second chance like this? You have a chance to live the life you were never afforded as a child because of the responsibilities that you had. You are one of the greatest wizards in all of the world, Harry, and not simply because you are powerful with a wand in your hand. You have the ability to inspire greatness in others in a way that most don't. When you match that with your magical power, you could shape the world in ways that most people wouldn't even dream."

"So what do you want me to do? Become Minister of Magic? Head of the Auror Office?"

"Harry, there is always more to you than the job that you keep. We all know that you are independently wealthy. You can live without working a day for the rest of your life. So don't allow the politics of the Ministry to affect how you change the world. Between being rich, influential and Harry Potter, there's no force that can stand in your way as long as the world still thinks about you in a positive way."

"Is this secretly about Kingsley's offer? You know that I'm doing it, right?"

"Yes, but you haven't confirmed when the meeting with Kingsley will happen. We're all kind of waiting for you to really step in and say that it's yours."

"Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because the threats will only get worse. We have alternate options to try and stop the remainders of the Death Eaters. But the best one we have is a team organized by you."

"Why me?"

"Because you know the Death Eaters best. You fought Voldemort to a standstill and you've beaten Bellatrix Lestrange, something only Molly Weasley can also say. But it's also because if it is known that you are involved, then the Death Eaters will be sloppier. Your name still instills fear in them, Harry. The last time you were seen publicly, you were Apparating off the grounds of Hogwarts. That's supposed to be impossible."

"I didn't mean to." Harry replied softly. "I was just angry."

"Well, your anger made you do something that should have been impossible. There are always rumors among the Death Eaters that we've captured that you are secretly out there looking for them. Well, we don't want it to be a secret anymore. We want them to know that the one person they really fear is actually after them."

"So I'm just a scare tactic?"

"That would only be true if there wasn't a good reason for them to be frightened. But I know how personal this would be for you, Harry. If you do go after them, they have every reason to be afraid."

Harry knew that she was right on just about everything she had said. There was only one thing that Harry was still wondering about.

"Is this more about the Ministry or more about me?"

"I resisted Robard's attempts to contact you for months." Hermione replied softly. "I thought this would be terrible for you. I thought it would bring back every old memory of everyone you've ever lost."

"So why are you trying to convince me to change my mind?"

"Because ever since the idea was planted in your head, you've been more active than you've been since The Battle. You got into the argument with Ron, you actually came to my office, you've been reading that journal consistently. You aren't drinking as much and you seem to be more cognizant than you were. Personally, I think that the thought of you being out there hunting the bad guys again excites you."

"I would be lying if I said that the thought didn't at least intrigue me." Harry admitted. "I want to see these people put away. But there's a fear about it that I also have."

"Why?"

"Because since the Battle, there's been something growing inside me. Even on the good days, it grows just a bit more. I don't know what to call it other than a grief monster. Each day, the memory of those I've lost eats away at me, feeding the monster."

"Then you've got to beat that monster, Harry."

"Hermione, I'm afraid that if I go after Dolohov or Rookwood or Lestrange, that monster will get out and I will do things that I will be ashamed of. Things that those that I loved would be ashamed of."

"Are you worried that you're going to kill someone?"

"Honestly, I've gotten over the fact that if I do this, I may have to kill someone." Harry said softly. "I'm just worried about how long it will take them to die."

"So you think that you're going to turn into some sort of monster, torturing your enemies before you kill them?"

"It seems possible."

"It doesn't for me." Hermione said firmly. "Even though you may want to do that, you won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you and I know how you feel about this kind of problem. If you have to kill someone in self-defense or to defend someone else, you could do that. But if you had the opportunity to finish someone off quickly and didn't, you would never be able to forgive yourself. You believe in your cause, Harry."

"What cause?"

"That the world is a better place than the way Death Eaters see it." Hermione said, her voice barely audible. "Even this darker version of you believes that. It's why you took the Battle so personally. You felt as if you were proven wrong."

"I was!"

"You weren't." Hermione challenged. "You proved that one person could unite people from different backgrounds, generations and ideals under a single banner with the sole purpose of defeating Voldemort and his personal brand of injustice. Some people gave their lives for this cause. They gave their lives for that cause because they believed in you more than they feared him."

Suddenly, Hermione stood and made her way over to him, sitting on the arm of his chair before leaning back towards him.

"Read the next entry." Hermione whispered, her gaze more intense than Harry ever remembered. "We're going in circles here and for once, I am completely at a loss with how to help you. If I can't help you and Ron can't help you, then I think it's time to try something dramatic."

"Dramatic. How so?"

"I'm going to let Snape try." Hermione grinned before standing and walking to the door. At the last minute, she stopped and turned back to him. "Read it and then absorb it. Then, when you're ready, let Kingsley know that you're ready."

With a grin, Hermione turned back around and walked out of the room. Within a minute, Hermione heard the front door close and he was once again alone.

Almost instantly, Harry felt a chill rush through the house. He knew that it was in his head but it still felt as if the temperature had dropped ten degrees. Despite the fact that Harry had chosen to hide himself away for the last year, he was slowly coming to hate the silence of his home when there was no one there. The visits from Kingsley and Hermione had been a welcome distraction to the loneliness of Grimmauld Place.

Maybe he should find somewhere else to live?

"Where the hell would I live?" Harry said aloud to himself. "It's not like I can get a place with the kind of security I have here."

Sitting there alone, Harry suddenly felt something digging at the back of his brain. There on the table next to him was Snape's journal. He knew what the next entry would be. He knew it would be reliving the memories he shouldn't have. The memories he heard every time a Dementor got too close.

The memories of his mother's death.

But, as much as Harry didn't want to revisit these memories, he trusted Hermione more. Her ability to read a situation and come up with the best result was one that Harry followed implicitly, even in a situation like this.

His belief in her led him to take the book and flip to the next entry. Immediately, Harry knew that he had reached the right page. Several pages were torn out and other pages were covered in water marks, the sure sign of tears falling on the page.

Finally, Harry was able to find the next collection of entries and continued his readings.

November 1, 1981

She is gone.

November 2, 1981

Lily is dead. The only person who I've ever loved is dead. What am I supposed to do now?

November 3, 1981

No one has seen Voldemort for three days. There are rumors that he is gone. However, I know too much of his power to believe that. He will be back.

November 4, 1981

I was the first one there. When I heard the rumors from the Death Eaters that she was dead, I made my way to Godric's Hollow. I knew that the fact that I knew where she lived was a bad omen. The Fidelius Charm should have prevented that.

But I couldn't have imagined what the house would look like until I saw it. Half the house was gone, the second floor ripped off in a single blast. It looked as if some sort of giant had just tore the roof off of the house.

Gently, I stepped through the front gate and onto the lawn. No ward or incantation stopped me. At this point, I knew her fate but my mind wouldn't let me see it. My heart wouldn't either. I prayed to every god that I knew in the moments it took me to reach what was left of the front door. I prayed that I was wrong.

The front door itself was gone, blown off its hinges by Voldemort. Tracing a path of destruction through the house, I found the only thing that I could remotely call positive.

James Potter's dead body at the bottom of the stairs. A quick scan showed that he had no wand nearby. Either Voldemort had so perfectly disarmed him that his wand had disappeared or the idiot had tried to attack the Dark Lord without his wand.

In either case, the result would have been the same.

Normally, I would have been pleased to see Potter's lifeless body. It was his torment that caused me to lose her and then she ran to him. He was the creator of all of my life's trouble and the destroyer of my dreams.

But he also protected her. If he was dead, then there was no one in between her and Voldemort.

Slowly, I crept up the stairs, willing myself to continue forward despite the terror that I felt building inside me. As I reached the landing on the second floor, I saw that the devastation was much worse on the inside of the house than could possibly have been imagined from the outside. Most of the house held scorch marks from where flames had previously burned. The floor in several places was missing and an entire room had been removed from the house.

However, all of that quickly fell by the wayside as I looked down the hall to see a single hand lying motionless in the doorway. Despite my desire to sprint to her, my body wouldn't allow it, forcing me to nearly crawl to her.

As I got closer, the rest of her came into view. As always, she was perfect.

But this time, she was lifeless and in that moment, I knew that my life would never be complete. After standing there for who knows how long, I collapsed to the floor, sobbing as I picked up her lifeless body, holding her in my arms one final time.

I don't know how long I held her there. Eventually, I noticed another set of tears. Slowly, I turned to see the boy, a small scar in the middle of his head. He looked to be the spitting image of a young James Potter, even in infancy.

All James Potter except for one thing: her eyes.

Suddenly, I heard the roaring of some sort of Muggle vehicle followed by the unmistakable voice of Sirius Black. I knew that my time with her was at an end. Setting her back down, I prayed the only prayer I have ever said. I prayed that she find a peace that had escaped her in life. I prayed that she was happy wherever she was.

But most importantly, I begged for her forgiveness.

Leaning forward, I placed a small kiss on her forehead, one final show of affection for the only woman I will ever love. Then, tears streaming down my face as the sound of feet climbed the stairs, I turned and disappeared from that place.

That night, I dreamed only of her.

November 5, 1981

I remember the first time I laid eyes on her. I was ten and she was standing by the hollowed out tree with her sister. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She was kind and bright, looking past the rags I wore and saw the boy that I was.

She always saw me for something better than I was.

That was her true beauty. Physically, she was also the most beautiful thing in the world. But her physical beauty paled in comparison to the beauty of her heart. She was gifted and kind, loving those that never deserved it.

For years, she loved me, even as a friend, despite my outward rejection of her kind.

I was a coward for so many years. I picked the easy side, going with those that I had gone to school with. I could have chosen to side with her. I should have chosen to side with her.

Maybe if I had sided with her, it would have been me to marry her, me who would have fathered her children.

Me who had died defending her.

Instead, I was weak. She spent the last years of her life hating me for one weak moment. In my embarrassment, I said the worst thing I could have ever said to the one person I ever actually cared about.

She never forgave me and she shouldn't have. She should have worked to kill me instead of Voldemort. Maybe she did. Maybe it was her hatred of me that lead to her joining the Order.

Dumbledore tells me that the boy lives. He doesn't know that I was there or if he does, he has allowed to keep the privacy of that one final moment that I shared with her. I don't know if this is a good thing or not but it was the most personal moment I will ever have and I wish desperately to keep it that way.

In the hours following her death, I found myself without a purpose. For the last several years, I had fought with myself. I had joined the Death Eaters out of some misguided sense of personal importance. I did truly believe that Voldemort would win. When he did, he would give her to me.

But why would she accept me? It was a question that I had never asked myself, fearful of knowing the answer. Because deep inside, I knew the answer. She had chosen Potter. If I had been a part of the group that had separated her from her husband, there would be no hope for any sort of reconciliation between us.

We would have been together and yet never further apart.

Without her, I felt my loyalties waver. I could have abandoned Dumbledore in these days. The sole reason for my defection from Voldemort is gone. It also appears that the Dark Lord himself is gone, despite a suspicion from both myself and Dumbledore that he is not so easily beaten.

In both matters, no one would blame me for leaving the Order and never working for them again. I have no one that I care for and no one that cares for me. There is a part of me that wishes to disappear from this country, never to return again.

Away from England, I could become anyone else. Severus Snape could be left to die while I created another identity. One that had never loved and lost. One that had never been personally responsible for the death of his only love.

But Dumbledore tells me that the boy is the key to defeating Voldemort upon his return. He will need protection.

And information. I know that when Voldemort returns, Dumbledore will ask me to return to his side.

Despite my burning hatred for Tom Riddle, I will comply. I will return to the man who murdered her despite my overwhelming desire to murder him in his sleep.

I do this for one reason and one reason only.

In honor of her.

In memory of her.

My sweet Lily: For you, always.

Putting the book down, Harry stood and walked to the window. Staring out, Harry could see that the bustle of the day was beginning for most of London. However, Harry barely noticed the people or the cars. There was too much going on in Harry's head to focus on something has mundane as morning traffic.

Hermione had been right, as usual. Snape's entries had certainly given him a lot to think about.

First, the fact that Snape had finally realized his folly in following Dumbledore was surprising. It hadn't been Snape himself that had pushed his mother away, but his ideals and what Snape had come to represent by the time that he had said that word to her. He knew that but the fact that he had also become aware of the fact that she would have rather died than join Voldemort.

These were revelations, inward glances at himself, that Harry didn't think Snape was capable of.

But mostly, it was Snape's decision to stay in England that surprised Harry. Snape had spelled it out exactly. He was plenty talented enough to simply disappear. While not on the same power level as Voldemort, Snape would have had years to burrow himself into the darkest hole he could find. He would have never been aware of Voldemort's return or the damage that he had caused.

"Not until it was too late." Harry muttered to himself. "As much as I hate to admit it, we would have lost the war without the intel he got us."

But Snape chose to stay. Despite the horrors of his youth and the failures of his early adult life, Snape stayed, knowing that he would be needed when Voldemort returned. He knew that Harry was the son of James Potter and he had hated for it. But his memory and love of Lily was stronger than his hatred for James.

So, he stayed and was ultimately one of the three people most responsible for Lord Voldemort's defeat along with Dumbledore and himself.

In the face of the greatest tragedy he would ever face, Severus Snape found his purpose. He would live a hard life, one where he would spend years serving the man he hated most in life. He would isolate himself from the rest of the world so that everyone would believe him to be a traitor when the time came.

And they did.

"I did." Harry whispered aloud. "I thought he had betrayed us all."

But through it all, Snape succeeded in giving the Order, Dumbledore and himself valuable information on Voldemort's movements and motives while also allowing Voldemort to believe that he was his most devoted follower.

Through everything, Snape never hid himself from the world as firmly as Harry had. He kept fighting, kept moving. He didn't process things well and he certainly wasn't pleasant but he was useful. He was dangerous to Voldemort and proved his loyalty when things mattered most.

What had Harry done? He had pushed away almost everyone who had cared about him because the pressure of being Harry Potter was too much. But as Harry thought about it, he realized how foolish he had been.

The pressure Harry faced was the pressure of being world famous and universally loved. As much as he hated him, the pressure that Snape faced, being in the pressure of the most powerful wizard to ever live who also happened to be able to crack into the human mind and view your thoughts easier than most people breathed, was significantly more taxing.

The differences between Snape and Harry were vast. Snape only cared about one person in the world whereas Harry cared about everyone, especially those who were loyal to him. Snape was a loner, someone who believed that his value was simply based in how good he was at a particular subject. Harry relied to his friends, almost to a fault. For years, he had counted on Hermione and Ron more than he should have. While they had never let him down, it had stunted his own personal growth at times.

But they both grieved, they both loved.

And they had both lost.

Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Dobby, Tonks, Remus, Fred: those that Harry had lost.

Lily: the one that Snape had lost.

To the random third party, it would appear that Harry should have had every reason to be more upset than Snape and maybe they were right.

But as Harry read the memoirs of Severus Snape and really got a grasp for just how much Snape had loved his mother, Harry wasn't so certain. Harry still had Hermione and Ron at the very least. He had others that he had pushed away that still cared about him.

Snape had no one. Whether that was the world's choice or his, the fact remained that Snape was alone from the very moment he uttered the word "Mudblood" in the direction of his mother.

He just didn't realize it truly until her death.

But if Snape found his purpose in the death of his mother, then what was Harry's? What truth could Harry find in the tragedy of the Battle?

Suddenly, the words of his old mentor popped into his head.

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. Love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever."

Snape had loved his mother.

His mother had loved Harry.

It was the truest connection between the two of them. It was also their largest difference. Snape's place in the world was to be separate from it, to hold it at arm's length and save it when no one was watching.

Harry's place in the world was to embrace it. As Dumbledore had told Harry so many times, his greatest gift was not his skill or his wits or his ability to plan.

It was his vast ability to love. That ability was why Harry had hurt so much after the Battle. If the roles had been reversed, Snape would have simply accepted it. He would have understood it to be a part of war and moved on.

But Harry was unable to move on. Even the people with the castle that he didn't know who had lost their lives, Harry had loved them. Those that he had barely known, Harry had loved them. It wasn't a love like Harry had for his closest of friends. How could it be?

Instead, it was a simple love of humanity and his belief in people. Even in these dark days after the Battle, Harry realized that he had never lost that feeling. It was why when people kept asking for a way into his life, Harry continued to say yes despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than just a bit of privacy.

"But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not." Harry chuckled.

Dumbledore would have been proud at Harry for returning to this line of thought. But Hermione was right again. He wouldn't have been proud at what Harry had been doing for the last year.

So what could he do now?

Well, it was Harry's love of the world that had led his to fight Voldemort in the first place. Without the love of the world, Harry couldn't have shouldered that burden and chosen to fight instead of hiding from Voldemort. But Harry wasn't truly fighting Voldemort, he realized. Voldemort was a threat to humanity. He was a threat to the love and faith that Harry had for humanity.

Now, followers of Lord Voldemort, skilled and terrifying witches and wizards, had returned, bringing the same ideals with them.

This was Harry's purpose. To use his skill, his wit and his ability to plan to defeat those that would seek to bring darkness into the world.

To use his love of humanity as a light to follow and to defend those who couldn't do it for themselves.

Suddenly, Harry felt an energy surging through him that he hadn't felt in over a year. Quickly, he withdrew his wand and leveled it.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Instantly, Prongs jumped forward, bouncing around the room several times before stopping in front of Harry.

"Go to Hermione. Give her this message: I'm ready."


	13. Chapter 13

Harry sat in the office of the Minister of Magic, meeting someone other than Hermione, Ron or Kingsley for the first time in months. Ironically, for a couple reasons including her relationship with Harry, Hermione had opted not to be at this initial meeting. Harry wished that she had chosen differently but he would be fine either way.

The rest of the room included Kingsley himself, Gawain Robards, Percy Weasley and several members of the Wizengamot that Harry couldn't name. Harry imagined they were there for decoration so that Kingsley could say that he was including them in this particularly sensitive matter.

"Thank you, Harry, for coming in today."

"Minister, I'm glad to get out of the house for once." Harry chuckled. "I just didn't realize it."

"I'm sure." Kingsley grinned. "Now, before you officially agree to this, I would like to outline just what we're going to have you doing."

"That seems reasonable."

"Good." Kingsley said before turning to Robards. "Gawain, please brief Harry to the details of this particular mission."

"Very well, Minister. Mr. Potter-"

"Harry." Harry said simply. "Just Harry please."

"That's fine. Harry, we've been dealing with increasing escalation in terms of potential threats by former Death Eaters. Specifically, these three."

With a wave of his wand, three pictures appeared floating in the middle of the room.

"I'm certain you recognize them."

"Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood and Rodolphus Lestrange." Harry growled.

"I figured you would know them." Robards replied softly. "There appear to be Death Eaters that are loyal to each one."

"Isn't Rookwood in Azkaban?"

"Yes and of the three, he appears to be the least interested in the power struggle between the three." Percy replied.

"How do you mean?"

"He has those that are loyal to him but he doesn't consider Dolohov or Lestrange to be any sort of rival." Robards informed him. "It seems that he believes they're all on the same side."

"Whereas the other two are definitely fighting for superiority over the others." Percy added.

"Harry, we do believe that eventually one of them will win this power struggle." Kingsley said seriously. "If that happens, then we're looking at a complete resurfacing of the Death Eater cause."

"And in the mean time, each group seems to be getting bolder as a way to recruit new members or steal members back from the other groups."

"What have they done so far?"

"A Muggle village was attacked in June by a force we believe is associated with Dolohov. The entirety of the town was burned to the ground and not a single man, woman or child was left behind." Kingsley said seriously, eliciting gasps from the Wizengamot members.

"Another group run by Rookwood attempted a breakout at Azkaban. None of them survived but they did kill almost a dozen Aurors."

"Finally, Lestrange himself attacked and killed several members of the British Parliament. We were able to get them all in the same car to make it look like a car accident but the PM wasn't very happy when we heard what had happened." Percy said softly. "If we can't control these groups, we're going to have a very hard time with the Muggle government. This new PM already doesn't like us and if Muggles are going to keep being targets for Death Eaters, he'll secretly start a war with us."

"So what exactly is it that you are asking me to do?" Harry asked Kingsley, desiring to get to the point.

"We're asking you to organize a task force with the express purpose of bringing down these three Death Eater groups. While we would prefer you not go around murdering Death Eaters, the Wizengamot has approved your team to act at your discretion. If removing them from the equation is the way things need to be done, then so be it."

"I'm assuming there is a catch to that."

"There is. This is an unofficial mission. You will have access to Ministry resources and you will have complete autonomy. However, if you are caught doing anything illegal by anyone outside of this room, the Ministry will not defend you against these charges. If you are caught by Death Eaters, the Ministry will treat you as a rogue group and leave you to the wolves."

"So do what you want, but don't get caught."

"Exactly." Kingsley said softly. "We simply cannot go through the same Barty Crouch argument again. So, we are giving you as much support as possible at the base level but once you're out in the field, you're on your own. We will create a cover that will be circulated through the Ministry that will let you get access to any material you wish within reason."

"But I imagine that cover will paint me as a rogue operative the second I would get caught."

"You and anyone you're working with." Robards replied. "You would all be implicated and the Ministry would be unable to help you."

"Very well." Harry said softly.

"So you'll do it?" Percy asked.

"I will." Harry said before lifting a hand. "But I do have some stipulations."

"And they are?" Robards said unhappily.

"First, I will have no partner assigned to me. This task force will be mine and my own with no interference from the Auror Office."

"Done." Kingsley said despite the look on Robards' face. "What else?"

"Secondly, I pick my team. Anyone from within the Ministry that I request will be immediately reassigned without protest. Anyone that I bring in from outside the Ministry will be paid by the Ministry the wage that they are losing for joining my team."

"Done." Kingsley answered as both Percy and Robards now looked at him in shock.

"Finally, I report only to you." Harry said simply, looking at Kingsley.

"Done." Kingsley said as Robards stood in protest.

"Minister, how can you do this? This is a criminal investigation that you are cutting the Auror Office out of."

"Gawain, this is an unapproved manhunt." Kingsley countered. "If we include the Auror Office, then we have to legalize it and if we legalize it, then I am limiting the ways in which Harry can get this done. I trust that if Harry has no limits, he will get this job done. The second we start infringing upon his ability to work freely, then we're letting the whole world know what we're doing and taking away that freedom from him to do his job."

"Well said, sir."

"I have to agree with Mr. Robards, sir." Percy said softly. "This feels a bit too cavalier for me."

"Do you not trust me, Percy?" Harry challenged.

"I trusted the version of you at the Battle of Hogwarts." Percy said honestly. "The version of you at the school opening ceremony, that one I don't trust. I have no idea about the Harry I see today."

"Don't you worry." Harry said firmly. "I will be reporting to Kingsley. If he decides I'm done and I don't agree, he then has the legal right to set the entire Auror Office after me. Even I can't defeat all of them at once."

What they didn't know is that it would probably be a close fight.

"Is that all, Minister?" Harry said, turning back to Kingsley. "I would like to get to work as soon as possible."

"I have a personal matter to discuss with you." Kingsley said with a strange look before turning to everyone else in the room. "If you would all excuse us."

Despite the fact that they all looked uncomfortable doing so, they did as the Minister asked and left the room, leaving Harry and Kingsley alone. Once they were gone, Harry turned back to Kingsley.

"So what the hell was that all about?"

"I needed them gone." Kingsley said as he waved his wand. Barely, Harry could hear the unmistakable faint buzzing of the Muffliato spell. Kingsley was certainly on edge about something.

"Kingsley, you're kind of freaking me out. What's going on?"

"I am giving your team a side mission." Kingsley said firmly. "When you begin your work, I want you to go through every single file the Aurors have on every witch, wizard and magical animal associated with Dolohov, Rookwood and Lestrange."

"I would have done that anyway. They've already done the work. Why not use it again?"

"Because it's not going to be that helpful." Kingsley muttered. "Every single time that we have gone after Dolohov or Lestrange, they've been gone. Once we had proof that they had been there not fifteen minutes before the Aurors started their attack."

"An inside source?"

"It's the only thing I can think of." Kingsley confirmed.

"Any suspects?"

"Not currently. Once I suspected, I told Robards to rotate who his men were for the strike teams."

"Do you think it could be Robards?"

"I think it could be anyone, Harry. Someone in the Auror Office is feeding them information. It could be one person, it could be one for each. Either way, there is someone that is giving information to Death Eaters."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Your prime objective is still to bring down the Death Eaters. If there are no Death Eaters to give information to, then the threat from within is significantly diminished. However, as you're doing that, I want you going through those files. You were trained as an Auror and you spent a significant amount of time in that file room."

"Don't remind me."

"Harry, it's a blessing on this case. You know what those case files should look like. I've seen some of them. There's barely anything in some of them and some of them are full of so much information, it would take a week to get through."

"Seems a bit obvious to do that, doesn't it?" Harry asked. "I mean I would start going through those right away. If there's that kind of information, there's got to be something in there they are trying to hide."

"My thoughts exactly but I couldn't get in there myself and I couldn't order an audit without Robards asking why."

"So you're giving my team free access to the file room to do a little digging of our own." Harry smirked. "Clever."

"I thought so myself." Kingsley chuckled. "Any ideas who you're putting on your team."

"Honestly, Hermione has to be on it. She and I spent years working with each other. I need at least one person in the room that can translate what I'm thinking."

"Harry, I really can't afford to lose her right now. We've got some big legislation going through the Wizengamot right now and she's my main policy analyst."

"We both know that Percy can do the job. We also know that there's no way in hell you're going to stop me from getting her. You'll order her to do it if you have to."

The look on Kingsley's face said everything.

"This is our top priority, Harry. You'll have everything you want."

"Thanks." Harry said as he stood up. "I'll arrange a way for us to communicate without anyone else knowing. The less people know-"

"The better." Kingsley finished before standing to shake Harry's hand. "Get out of here. I don't want people asking questions."

"Yes, sir."

Having been dismissed from the Minister's Office, Harry made his way to the office just two doors down, one belonging to one Hermione Granger. A knock on the door was greeted with a simple grunt of acknowledgment.

Harry took that as a sign to enter. Opening the door, he was greeted with the top of Hermione's head as she scribbled furiously at something on her desk.

"I know that you don't have an appointment." Hermione said without looking up.

"I was unaware that I needed one."

Instantly, Hermione looked up. The look of shock on her face was something that Harry would have prized more if not for the fact that he was actually there on business.

An appointment probably would have been the appropriate thing to do.

"Harry! What are you doing here?"

"I had my meeting with Kingsley just a few minutes ago. I figured I would step in and see how things were doing."

"You had your meeting already?" Hermione asked. "And you didn't tell me."

"I'm trying this whole productivity thing. I did what you said and read the next entry."

"Did it help?"

"It didn't hurt." Harry grinned. "I don't know exactly what to think about it."

"It got you out of the house. That's something." Hermione chuckled. "I'm assuming you took the deal."

"You are assuming correctly."

"How much can you tell me?"

"I can tell you that you're about to get reassigned."

"To what?"

"The Death Eater Task Force."

For one of the few times in Harry's memory of her, Hermione was absolutely silent. Harry knew that she wouldn't be happy about this. He also knew that if he beat around the bush, she would have been even more upset.

So, Harry dropped the info on her quickly and then let her digest it as she saw fit.

"Harry, I can't do that."

"For a few reasons, you will." Harry said firmly.

"Oh really? What are those reasons?"

"Firstly, Kingsley has already agreed that he will order you to do so if necessary. Second, this mission is as important to you as it is to me. You want those Death Eaters gone almost as much, if not more, than I do. Finally, when I leave, Kingsley will probably walk in here and have a conversation with you."

"What kind of conversation?"

"One in which he will directly order you to join my team but for an entirely different reason."

"And that is?"

"To keep an eye on me."

"Harry, don't be absurd."

"Kingsley is handing the most important unofficial mission the Ministry has authorized in decades to a man who has spent the last twelve months hiding in his townhouse and getting as intoxicated as possible. While I firmly believe that he does trust me, he would be foolish not to have someone there to keep an eye on me."

"And I'm the ideal candidate." Hermione said, finishing the line of thought.

"Exactly. You're my best friend, you are brilliant and you are directly tied to the Minister. You are the perfect eyes and ears for him."

"What if I just resign?" Hermione challenged. "That will stop all of you from ordering me to do anything."

"You won't."

"I won't?"

"Two reasons. One, you love your job too much and you enjoy the impact that you can make. Two, my second point again. Getting rid of the Death Eaters is arguably as important to you as the Blood Equality Act."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I'm assuming it was you that suggested the formation of the task force with me in charge."

"Why would you assume that?" Hermione asked.

"Because no person in their right mind would go to a drunk to head up a Black Ops team." Harry chuckled.

Instantly, the look on Hermione's face betrayed her.

"Who told you?"

"No one told me." Harry confirmed. "Once I'm less drunk, I'm actually fairly competent. It wouldn't make any sense for Kingsley to suggest me. However, if you had suggested the idea with the understanding that you were then in charge of getting me fit to lead, that's an idea I can get behind."

Harry could tell that Hermione wasn't particularly happy. Even Harry himself wasn't that happy that he had to do this to her. But her presence on his team was of the utmost importance. Without her there to keep an eye on him, Harry was fearful that his more loose conscience would unravel in the face of those he hated most.

And if that happened, there would be no one to stop him from becoming the one thing he hated the most.

"Yes, I was the one that suggested it. Kingsley wasn't particularly thrilled with the idea. However, when I vouched for your sobriety, he decided to go through with the project."

"You told me that you kept Robards away from me for months. If you had originally suggested me, why would you do that?"

"Because I wanted Kingsley to do it without Robards' involvement. I remember that he wasn't particularly pleasant with you the last time and I didn't want his involvement to keep you from doing it. Plus, when I vouched for your sobriety, you weren't exactly sober."

"That was my next question. When did you come up with this idea?"

"About six months ago." Hermione answered softly. "Right after Lestrange's first attack."

"That Muggle school bus?"

"Yes." Hermione confirmed. "I knew that we needed you. So, I started mentioning to other Aurors that had Robards' ear that we may need to look into contacting you."

"They took that info to Robards as their own, I'm assuming."

"They did." Hermione said with a smile. "Within a week, Robards was in my office for the first time. You were in a really bad way and so I denied. Plus, as much as I knew we needed you, I still worried about you."

"You are manipulative and confusing as hell."

"You are not the first person to tell me that."

"Good." Harry grinned. "So you're in?"

"Yes, I'm in." Hermione groaned. "But you're going to have to make this worth my while."

"How so?"

"I need you to bring someone else on your team." Hermione said cautiously. "You aren't going to like it."

"Just tell me who and why."

"I need you to bring in Draco Malfoy."

Needless to say, that was the last name that Harry was expecting to hear. Trying to keep his teeth from grinding together hard enough to start a fire, Harry carefully expressed his feelings on that particular subject.

"Over my dead body."

"That's actually my concern, Harry."

"What do you mean?"

"After the war, the Ministry cut a deal with the Malfoys. Lucius and Narcissa remained out of Azkaban, albeit on a heavily modified house arrest plan for the remainder of their lives. In return, Draco would act as an informant. To the rest of the world, Draco is working for his father, retaining the family legacy of investing thru Gringotts, using magic to exploit the Muggle stock market and using government contacts to protect their wealth by eliminating their tax burden or providing international shelter for large portions of his wealth."

"You're going to tell me what he's really doing, I'm sure."

"In actuality, he's giving the Ministry all the intel we can handle on former Death Eaters and Purebloods who have been shirking the system for years. We've already been able to put nearly a dozen prominent Purebloods in prison for various crimes thanks to the information we've gotten from him."

"So why does he need to be the team?"

"So that we can keep a close eye on him." Hermione said as she withdrew a file from her desk. "This is all the intel that Malfoy has provided us in the last six months. It's a gold mine. But it's also dwindling. The first Pureblood, Sylvia Zabini, we put away with his intel was a treasure trove of information. We could have put her away for nearly a thousand years."

"That's great. What's the problem?"

"The last person we put away with Malfoy's intel was Brutus Borgin of Borgin and Burkes. We've been after him for years but we hadn't been able to nail him with anything. If Malfoy really knew as much as he said he did, then he should have been able to put him away forever."

"How long was his sentence?"

"Eighteen months with an optional release date of six if his behavior is good. He went away three months ago and the guards at Azkaban say that he has been a model inmate. He'll be out in three months and back to operating the country's largest contraband operation with no new intel on him."

"What's your concern?"

"My concern is either that the well is running dry and we've given the Malfoys a "Get Out of Jail Free" card for the remainder of their lives or that Malfoy is protecting someone. He's giving us just enough information to avoid suspicion without linking any information to anyone of importance or for any significant period of time. Basically, I'm worried that his plan is to actually convict a large portion of the Purebloods for small crimes using vast pools of intel knowing that the second they get out, we'd never be able to touch them for those crimes again."

"That seems like quite the plan. Do you think Malfoy's up to it?"

"Malfoy fixed a Vanishing Cabinet to bring Death Eaters in Hogwarts at seventeen. This seems decidedly easier than that."

Thinking about it, Harry realized that having Malfoy on his team would help him either way. Either Malfoy was involved and they could put him away with the rest of them or he wasn't and he would be forced to help so that his parents remained out of jail.

He wasn't happy about that but he knew that it was worth the risk of being annoyed by the giant bouncing ferret.

"Fine. I'll talk to him later today and see if he will join."

"That means going to Malfoy Manor, Harry. Why don't you talk to him here?"

"Because I want to let him know I mean business and that means encroaching on their turf."

"You're kind of insane sometimes, Harry."

"I know." Harry said with a grin. "Well, I'll get to that then."

"Who else is on your list?"

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure yet."

"Well, let me know when we start searching."

"Will do." Harry said as he stood. "Have a good day and I'm sure I'll see you soon."

Hermione watched as Harry walked out the door, disappearing from sight. Within minutes, Harry's predication came true as Kingsley came walking through the door. Huffing slightly, Hermione smirked and motioned for the Minister to sit down.

"I'm sure that Harry just informed you that you're being reassigned."

"He did." Hermione confirmed.

"Good." Kingsley said, discomfort showing on his face. "Listen, Hermione, I hate to ask you to do this but-"

"I'll do it just fine, Kingsley."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask." Kingsley said in confusion.

"You're going to ask me to accept the reassignment as a cover to watch Harry."

The look on Kingsley's face was priceless.

"How did you know that?"

"Harry told me."

"How did he know that?"

"Because when Harry is at his very best, he knows people. Being who he is, he's always been very aware of the politics involved with his involvement in anything, especially when it may be unpopular. He knew that in order to authorize something like this, there would have to be a check on the biggest wild card out there."

"That wild card being him."

"Exactly." Hermione said softly. "You know people refer to me as the greatest witch of my age. I may definitely be the smartest and the most logical witch or wizard but greatest is a term that I reserve for him. When you combine his skill with his intelligence, charisma and honesty, I don't doubt that he would be the greatest if he just applied himself."

"Well, here's hoping this mission restores that effort in him."

"Yes, here's hoping."

After leaving the Ministry, Harry had instantly Apparated to Malfoy Manor. As part of their plea agreement, the Malfoys were ordered to remove most of their wards from their home. They were still allowed to keep any that would let them know that someone had arrived but nothing more than that.

Which means that they knew that Harry was there. Knowing that he wouldn't be welcome, Harry had fought the desire to walk with wand in hand. He trusted Hermione's instinct that they both needed Malfoy and needed to keep an eye on him. This meant appealing to Malfoy's ego and that meant not antagonizing him by walking in armed.

As Harry reached the door, it opened before he had the chance to knock. However, the person who answered the door was not who Harry expected.

Standing before him was Lucius Malfoy, staring at him as if he had seen a ghost. Lucius looked weaker than the last time that Harry had seen him. Admittedly, it had been since the Battle of Hogwarts that he had seen him but the fact that life after Voldemort seemed to have drained him of the grandiosity of his personality made Harry just the slightest bit happy.

"Potter." Lucius growled. "Get off my property."

"I'm not interested in you, Lucius." Harry countered. "Call for your son."

"Came to finish him off, did you?"

"I came here to ask for his help."

"You honestly think I would believe that?" Lucius roared as he drew his wand and aimed it at Harry. "You will leave or I will attack. The Ministry has already taken most of our wealth and our privacy, I will not have you take my son!"

"You're making a mistake, Lucius."

"You dare taunt me in my own home!"

"I'm not trying to taunt you." Harry said, lifting his hands to show that they were empty. "I'm serious, Lucius. I'm working with the Ministry and I want Draco to help me with a case."

"That's enough!"

With a flick, Lucius fired a red curse that Harry easily dodged as he withdrew his wand. In a single motion, Harry aimed and fired a simple disarming spell, leaving Lucius wandless as it floated through the air into Harry's hand. The second it landed in his hand, Harry looked up to Lucius.

"Get your son." Harry growled. "I have no time for your pride. I have business with Draco that doesn't involve you and your big mouth. Now, go get Draco or I'll go find himself myself."

"I'm already here."

Looking up, Harry saw Draco standing on the balcony of the second floor, looking out over the main hall where Harry had pushed Lucius back into. For a few seconds, the two rivals stared at each other, sizing each other up and saying nothing. Finally, Harry realized what he was there for was far more important than their rivalry and broke the silence.

"I have a proposition for you."

"So I heard." Draco said as he made his way down the stairs. "Father, leave us."

"This is my house. You don't order me around here."

"This isn't me ordering. This is the Ministry." Draco replied, motioning towards Harry. "Obviously, they are in control of our situation. Unless you would like to get worse, I suggest you get out of here so Potter and I can talk."

"Boy, you will watch-"

"You can beat me later!" Draco growled. "Now get out!"

This dynamic was new for Harry. For years, Draco had cowered under the firm grip of his father's domineering personality. Now, Draco controlled the relationship. Something had happened in the last year that had drastically altered things.

It was an interesting development.

Seeing that his son was serious, Lucius turned and stormed off, no doubt plotting his son's recompense. Once he was gone, Draco turned back to Harry.

"Make this quick, Potter. I may not be as foolish as my father but I don't like having you here any more than he does."

"Yes, because this is the first place I thought of going for a good time." Harry snapped snidely.

"If you wish to leave, you are welcome to as quickly as possible. If you have something to say, then get it over with."

"Fine." Harry barked. "I know that you've been providing the Ministry with intel on Purebloods and former Death Eaters."

"Of course, I don't have any sort of a choice in that matter. Do you think that I would rather sell out Purebloods that pursue Mudbloods?"

"Watch your language."

"I will do nothing of the sort, Potter. This is my home, my domain and I shall speak as I wish." Draco snapped. "I am doing what I must to ensure that the Malfoy name remains a name of power in the world. Eventually, things will even out for the rest of the world and the Malfoy family will remain in a position of influence."

"Assuming you don't end up dead when they find out you're turning them in."

"An empty threat. The Ministry would never cut me off so long as I'm providing them with good intel."

"They will now." Harry said simply. "A senior adviser for the Minister-"

"You mean Granger."

"I will repeat, a senior adviser for the Minister has discovered that you are giving less information that before. They are concerned that they traded the sure conviction of two very prominent Death Eaters for a year worth of information against some minor Death Eaters."

"Their mistake."

"Also one they can fix." Harry said firmly. "I'm organizing a task force to bring down splinter groups of Death Eaters. I know that you have information on these men."

"Which mean?"

"Dolohov, Lestrange and Rookwood."

"Well, Rookwood is in Azkaban."

"I mean his men."

"What about them?"

"You have information on them."

"I may."

"You better."

"Is that a threat?"

"A promise." Harry said, withdrawing a document from his cloak that he had gotten from the Hall of Records before leaving the Ministry. "This is the terms of your plea agreement. In here, it states that if you obstruct any investigation into Death Eaters or their activities, you will break this agreement and you and your parents will immediately go to Azkaban."

"What's your point?"

"I'm going after those three. That's the point of the task force. You can either join me or go to Azkaban. I have a letter in my pocket that is an arrest order for you. If I leave without a promise of your assistance, it gets sent and Aurors show up within seconds."

"How do I prevent that letter from being sent?"

Got him.

"Agree to join the task force. All of your information will be part of the investigation and anything you have will be helpful in bringing them in. If you provide enough intel, I will work to get your plea agreement stricken from the record entirely and you'll be free to operate as you see fit, provided you don't turn into Lord Voldemort."

Harry was pleased to see Draco shutter at the name of the Dark Lord.

"Listen, I don't particularly want to work with you for reasons that are obvious." Harry said firmly. "However, I can respect that you are providing the Ministry with information, information that I need. I think that there was a part of you that regretted your role in Voldemort's second reign. You've done a fair bit to get back to a more respectable place. Joining this task force will get you the rest of the way there in my eyes."

"Why would I care what you think?"

"Because I'm the only one that will fight on your behalf if you spy for me."

Those words had a strange effect on Draco. Instantly, he stood straighter, realizing for the first time in months that there was a chance for him to return to being the version of Draco Malfoy that he had always dreamed of as a child. Pleading to that ego was Harry's entire tactic and it had obviously worked.

With a look of disdain on his face, Draco extended a hand that Harry quickly took.

"When do we begin?"


	14. Chapter 14

Two weeks later, Harry was seated in his kitchen. For the first time since the last Order of the Phoenix meeting had been held there, there was someone present other than Harry, Ron or Hermione.

Thankfully, Hermione was there but the rest were strangers to Grimmauld Place.

Harry's first recruit was his childhood rival, Draco Malfoy. The second and third were Aurors. In the days after Harry's meeting with Kingsley, he had returned to the Ministry to meet with Gawain Robards. Harry wanted Aurors on the team for several reasons.

They were good fighters, they followed commands but most importantly, it would give Harry a cover when he began his investigation into the possible mole within the Aurors.

So, Harry's first request from Robards had been his cleanest Auror, someone who had never been reported for misconduct. Unfortunately, Harry underestimated how much some people hated the Aurors as each had at least one complaint on record.

One Auror, Paul Blackfoot, had just one complaint on record. It was from his time guarding Hogsmeade during the Second War.

The person who lodged the complaint was Draco Malfoy for searching him on his way into the town.

The moment Harry saw Blackfoot's record, he immediately requested his transfer.

The other Auror that Harry wanted was the current Auror in Charge on the Death Eater case. Harry knew that it was a case that had been bounced around the department with several men and women leaving the Office due to the pressure put on them to capture the remaining Death Eaters.

Harry had chuckled when he had seen the name in charge of the case: one Oliver Wood. Apparently, Wood had never returned to his Quidditch career, joining the Auror Office after the war. He had been an Auror for only eighteen months but in that time, he had proven himself invaluable and been quickly pushed up the ranks.

Now, he would be a part of the task force to bring the Death Eaters down.

However, the last member of his team was not an Auror, at least not anymore. He had just been convinced the previous evening when Harry had approached him at his place of work.

It had been a surreal experience for Harry, returning to Hogwarts for the first time since his drunken explosion over a year earlier. Harry had Apparated to Hogsmeade and then made his way towards the castle on foot.

There was a large part of Harry that wanted to stop by the castle and see some of his professors, specifically Minerva McGonagall who was the Headmistress of the school. However, Harry knew that he had business to attend to and continued on.

As Harry approached the greenhouses, he could see his target busying himself with various plants and pots, getting ready to head home for the day. Harry watched him work for a few minutes before Neville Longbottom got the feeling that someone was watching him.

Slowly, Neville turned, his hand on the handle of his wand, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

For several seconds, Neville stared at Harry as if he had seen a ghost. Finally, a smile broke over his face as he approached Harry, embracing him like a brother.

When they separated, Neville spoke first.

"Harry Potter, what the hell are you doing here?" Neville cried out.

"Language, Professor. We're at school."

"It's not Professor yet. Sprout is sticking around through Christmas and then the job will be mine."

"Think she could stick around for the rest of the year?"

Suddenly, the joy on Neville's face dropped.

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Because I need you for the foreseeable future." Harry said softly as he took a seat next to one of the tables where Neville had been working. "I've got something going."

"That's pretty obvious, Harry. No one has seen you in months and now you show up like you own the place."

"It's not that simple."

"Sure it is." Neville snapped. "This isn't fifth year anymore. We don't just answer to your beck and call without some questions."

"You never did." Harry replied. "You asked plenty of questions back then."

"Yes, but back then, we believed in you."

"You had reason to believe." Harry said softly. "I know that there hasn't been much reason to believe recently but I'm hoping to change that."

"How?"

"By finishing the job that I set out to do in the first place."

"You did that. Don't you remember burning Voldemort's body on that pyre on the lake? We watched the body go up in flames, Harry. He's gone."

"He is gone but his message isn't. There are others out there. They are Voldemort but they're dark and powerful nonetheless. They need stopped."

"I suppose you think you're going to do it."

"I am."

"How do you think you're going to pull that off?"

"With the assistance of a sanctioned task force from the Minister himself." Harry said simply to a sudden silence from Neville. It took several seconds for Neville to come up with anything beyond just grunting.

Eventually, words did come out.

"From what I've heard from Ron and Hermione, you've been holed up inside Sirius Black's childhood home drunk off your ass, seeing one thing or another for months. You're telling me that Kingsley just up and gave you your own task force."

"It was Hermione. She was able to convince him that I would be sober and then come up with enough good reasons for me to be sober. I'm not perfect yet, Neville, not even by a long shot. But I am better and I'm in a place to help."

"So you're going to take some small team and take down all of the Death Eaters. How do you think that's even going to work?"

"There's a Muggle proverb, cut off the head and the body dies."

"You did cut off the head."

"Yes but like any organization like this, another head was formed or in this case, three."

"Three?"

"Yes, we believe the Death Eaters are suffering through their own civil war. Three men have stepped forward, two by choice and one by reputation, to stake a claim as the leaders of the Death Eaters."

"Who are they?"

"Antonin Dolohov is the frontrunner." Harry said softly. "He was the one who broke your wand in the Department of Mysteries."

"And cursed Hermione, I remember him."

"He's the most violent of the three and so his army is easily the most powerful. The second is Augustus Rookwood."

"Isn't Rookwood in Azkaban?"

"Yes, but Rookwood is seen as Riddle's political successor. Similar doctrine, same demeanor but he lacks the power that Riddle had. We believe that he is the most dangerous of the three currently because he could potentially recruit many witches and wizards on message alone. He has currently denied involvement with the Death Eaters but an attempt was made to break him out a few months ago: killed ten Aurors."

"Who's the last?"

"Rodolphus Lestrange."

"Excuse me?" Neville said, his fists gripped tightly.

"Lestrange." Harry said simply before continuing. "He has the best blood line, the most money and being married to Bellatrix is a boon for his cause. Among the Death Eaters who remain, Bellatrix is seen as a martyr, one of the few who died for their Master's cause."

For a few seconds, Neville stared at Harry, a burning look of hatred in his eyes. Finally, he turned away from Harry, returning to his work.

"Get out of here."

"What?"

"I said leave."

"Neville, I need your help."

"I will not put up with your bullshit, Harry!" Neville roared, turning back to Harry, his wand in hand. "Do you really think so little of me that you would come here to goad me into fighting against Lestrange?"

"Neville, I-"

"I will not be party to your Death Eater killing spree. There has been enough of that going on with assistance from you and your death squad!"

"That's not why I'm recruiting you." Harry pleaded.

"Oh really? Because I can't think of another possible reason."

"I'm recruiting you because you won't kill."

"Pardon me?"

"I know how personal Lestrange is for you and for good reason. But you're a better person than I am, at least the version of me today. You're right, I want to go out there and hunt them down and make them pay for what they did by any means necessary. It's why I need people like you."

"People like me?"

"I've got two Aurors on the team. One of them is Wood. He's taken out three Death Eaters in the last five months. The other is Proudfoot. He's never killed anyone on duty in his thirteen years as an Auror. Hermione is on the squad and she would never take a life. Malfoy-"

"Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"

"He's been providing intel on former Death Eater and high placed Purebloods in exchange for keeping his family out of Azkaban and the retention of his family's wealth. However, for someone concerned with status, the removal of these three men, all Purebloods and influential, will mean more power for his family. He'll encourage me to kill at any chance."

"Two and two." Neville noticed.

"Two and two." Harry repeated. "Currently, I don't know which side I fall on but I want to know that if I fall the wrong way, the team is still balanced. I have no intention of during this into a death squad as you so eloquently put it."

"Seemed appropriate at the time."

"It did." Harry nodded. "Listen, this is going to take some time. But you have the opportunity to finish putting these people away for the rest of their lives. I need you like I need Hermione and Proudfoot to balance out the team. Without you, I don't have another voice of reason to keep this from becoming government sanctioned murder."

Harry could see that Neville was seriously considering it. He knew this would be a hard decision. Neville was considering putting his career on hold to join Harry in another race against the clock. There were no guarantees that he would even come out alive.

But finally, the Gryffindor in Neville won out as he nodded slowly.

"If I think you're in too deep, I walk."

"I would expect nothing less."

It had been two weeks before they could arrange a meeting. Harry wanted all of his team to remain in their current jobs as often as possible. In this way, Harry hoped to convince the Death Eaters that he was the only person currently searching for them. Meanwhile, Hermione was already completing research in her office instead of writing legislation while Neville was reading through old cases in between grading papers for Professor Sprout at Hogwarts.

Needless to say, it had been easy to get Proudfoot reassigned to Wood, who had immediately put him to work.

Finally, Harry stood at the end of the table and addressed his team.

"This is it. If you want out, there's the door." Harry said firmly. "This mission won't be for the faint of heart. We may have the resources of the Ministry at our disposal but make no mistake, we are on our own against an enemy that will not hesitate to kill us."

His disclaimer said, no one moved. Harry smiled and moved on.

"We're all here for different reasons but we're going to do this together." Harry said softly before looking up at Oliver. "Wood, can you give us a rundown of what we're facing?"

"Certainly." Wood said before standing and moving next to Harry's spot at the end of the table. "After the defeat of Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, the Death Eaters have splintered into three groups, led by three different men."

With a wave of his wand, a spectral image of Augustus Rookwood floated above the table in front of them.

"The most interesting group is supposedly led by Augustus Rookwood, per sources and intelligence gathered before I took over this operation. However, Rookwood himself has denied any claim that he leads a group of Death Eaters and he admitted to his crimes against the Ministry for a slightly lesser prison sentence of 45 years."

"Still a death sentence to a man of that age." Hermione commented.

"True." Wood confirmed. "Rookwood is the most political of the three and has the best security network. We believe that if there is a set of spies in the Ministry working for the Death Eaters, they belong to his faction. He's the only one of the three with intimate knowledge of the Ministry's workings, even if they are a bit out of date. We have no confirmed associates and no crimes that we can specifically tie to him. However, his name pops up every so often as someone who is secretly working against the Ministry from within Azkaban, which means that he needs a man on the ground within the Ministry to execute his plans."

Instantly, Harry and Hermione locked eyes, both thinking that Malfoy could potentially be that man.

"Rodolphus Lestrange is the second leader." Wood said as he waved his wand, changing the image to that of the husband of the late Bellatrix Lestrange. "He's the Pureblood favorite. His ideology lines up with what Voldemort portrayed himself to be and he's very close to clinically insane."

"So he's got a big backing." Neville smirked.

"He does." Wood said evenly. "We know for a fact that Thorfinn Rowle has joined him."

"That giant blonde?" Hermione asked. "The one that attacked us with Dolohov at the diner?"

"The same." Harry replied. "What about Dolohov?"

A swish of Wood's wand changed Lestrange's face to that of Antonin Dolohov.

"Dolohov is the most powerful of the three. Other than Bellatrix herself, no other Death Eater was deployed by Voldemort as often as Dolohov. He was effectively Voldemort's assassin for those that the Dark Lord didn't deem powerful enough to deal with personally."

"What's his support like?"

"Different than the other two. Rabastian Lestrange is the only person that has truly spoke in support of him and he's in Azkaban. However, he's most popular with people overseas and with the younger witches and wizards out there. There are rumors that the Bulgarian government would support a takeover by Dolohov, believing that he would choose to exile Muggleborns and Half-Bloods without a second thought."

"Great." Hermione muttered softly.

"Floating out in the world is: Walden McNair, last seen in February just outside New Dehli; Sewlyn, seen in France last summer and Amycus Carrow, seen with Sewlyn. We have several influential Death Eaters locked up but until these are dealt with, they're always a threat."

"Tell them about Alecto." Harry ordered.

"We all know Alecto Carrow. One of the Carrow siblings and was stationed at Hogwarts during the lost year. Currently, she is confined as in a single person cell with the secure wing at Azkaban. We believe that if any of the three leaders take control, they will seek out Alecto as their second. She's smart, conniving and capable of cruelty the likes of which the world rarely sees."

Suddenly, Neville spoke up.

"I'm confused. You're saying that each of these people has roughly one confirmed follower and that they all want to recruit Alecto Carrow." he said harshly. "What the hell are we worrying about then?"

"The unconfirmed followers." Wood answered before withdrawing a stack of paper from his briefcase and dropping it on the table. "Each page is one possible candidate."

The stack was large and well-worn as if someone, probably Wood himself, had looked through it dozens of times.

"We have potential sympathizers like Zacharias Smith in there. We have confirmed zealots like Theodore Nott in this list. None with enough information to say for certain that they have or would join one of the three. The biggest issue is with our generation. After school, anyone that would have possibly joined one of the three factions either disappeared entirely, like Blaise Zabini, or have kept to themselves, like the Greengrasses.

Finally, Harry stood and addressed his team.

"This is going to be the bulk of our task. In order to get to Dolohov or Lestrange, we're going to have to get to their people." Harry said, his voice strong and stable. "This means stakeouts, break-ins and tails. We're going to have to be silent. Publicly, I'm going to convince the Minister to inform the Prophet that I've been rehired as an Auror. This should give them something to think about and hopefully, the opportunity to gain some more intel."

Sitting, Harry turned to Wood. Despite the fact that Oliver was only a few years older than him, Harry thought that Oliver looked well over a decade older than him. Getting assigned the most challenging case in the entire Auror ranks could do that to you.

"Skip forward one year. Without our intervention, where do you see this going?"

Sitting down, Oliver took a large gulp from the mug in front of him before looking up at the rest of the table.

"If Rookwood really wants a piece of this, he'll wait. He's already in Azkaban so there's not much he can do from there until at least one of the others is taken out."

"Is that good or bad?" Hermione asked.

"Neither. It will ensure that Rookwood just bides his time. However, Dolohov is the exact opposite. He'll see Rookwood waiting and take advantage of that. He'll recruit younger and more dangerous witches and wizards through the promise of action. He'll attack anyone and everyone, no one will be out of his line of sight."

"We're talking Muggles, half-bloods, Muggleborn. Anyone." Proudfoot added. "Dolohov will attack anyone that he views will get him closer to complete control while damaging the Ministry."

"Great." Hermione muttered.

"Eventually, it will come to a head between Dolohov and Lestrange. They hate each other for a variety of reasons."

"Some of them involve rumors around Bellatrix." Proudfoot commented.

"We can't confirm those rumors." Wood said softly.

"What rumors?" Harry asked.

"We all saw how Bellatrix acted around Voldemort." Wood said uncomfortably. "She loved him, worshipped him. However, she was also a bit of a wild woman."

"You're talking about the rumors that Bella slept with anything that moved." Draco said softly.

"I am."

"They're not rumors." Draco confirmed. "As long as they could handle that level of punishment, that is."

"Punishment?"

"Bella enjoyed causing pain, even in those people that she professed to love." Draco growled. "I don't know how many times she tortured me in the name of love."

"So we can assume that Rodolphus didn't like this?" Harry asked.

"Correct."

"We can also assume that Dolohov was one of the few people that could handle that level of punishment?"

"Correct."

"Typical." Hermione grunted. "Men fighting over women."

"This is more than about women." Draco said strictly. "Bella was seen as the Dark Lord's chosen favorite. For Bella to allow you to touch her was seen as a sign of favoritism. The fact that Bella hated her husband but loved to screw around with others was seen as a slight against Rodolphus, especially since he came from favored blood."

"Still, Riddle knew that this would come down to being about a woman." Hermione countered. "He used that against the Death Eaters."

"Of course he did. You don't get to control people like Antonin Dolohov without being some sort of manipulator."

Harry turned back to Wood, seeking to return the conversation to the task at hand.

"What happens when one of them wins?"

"Rookwood will assess the situation. There's a chance that he would rather play the second to one of them, especially Lestrange who was one of his closer friends among the Death Eaters."

"Augustus Rookwood will never play second fiddle to anyone."

That voice obviously belonged to Draco Malfoy.

"Pardon me?" Wood growled.

"This is why you're not catching any of them." Draco scoffed. "Whoever is feeding you intel must be as stupid as Longbottom."

Instantly, Neville stood, wand drawn as Malfoy smirked in delight.

"Malfoy, we talked about this." Harry said, grinding his teeth as he tried to speak to the Slytherin with some semblance of decency.

"We did." Malfoy said, his eyes filled with glee. "But I had to get one in before you scolded me out of my opportunity."

"Never again, Malfoy." Neville growled. "Speak like that to me again and the ferret will make his return."

"I'm trembling." Malfoy taunted before turning to Harry, suddenly bored of Neville. "Like I said, your intel is shit. Rookwood was an Unspeakable. They don't take orders and they don't work with others. The only person that he ever took orders from was The Dark Lord."

"You mean Voldemort." Neville said, a smile on his face as he saw Malfoy flinch at the name. "What's wrong, Malfoy, still see the snake in your dreams?"

Instantly, Neville and Malfoy were out their seats, wands at the ready.

"ENOUGH!" Harry bellowed, slamming his hands on the table, which silenced everyone. For a second, Harry let the silence float over the room as Neville and Malfoy sat down. "I get it. We have history. We have a very long history. Some of that history involves us being on the opposite side of the war. Guess what? That's over now."

Harry sank into his seat, rubbing his eyes as he did.

"I have enough problems to deal with." Harry said softly. "This is a big deal, ladies and gentlemen. We have been given this task by the Ministry and we're going to do it well. For a variety of reasons, you have all accepted this mission. This means certain things, certain rules are to be abided by and I'm damn sure that I don't have to spell those out for you."

"I don't know that I can do this." Neville admitted. "He worked for them, for Him. Hell, he lead the plan that got Dumbledore killed. How can you expect us to trust him?"

"I don't."

"Then why bring him in?" Hermione asked.

"Because we need his intel." Harry reasoned aloud. "Malfoy has connections with people that are going to know things about these three."

"So get his intel and cut him loose." Neville growled. "Why does he have to be present?"

"I'm sitting right here." Malfoy barked.

"Stop! He's here because he's useful. He has intel, which is important, but even more important, he knows how these people work. We already know more about Rookwood than we did when we started this meeting."

"How can you trust that information though?" Oliver asked.

"Because you trust me."

For the first time in a few minutes, silence reigned over the room. Eventually, Proudfoot, the one person in the room that Harry didn't have a close relationship with, spoke up.

"Potter, I mean no offense but I'm here because I was assigned to be by Robards. No one has seen you publicly in over a year. Rumors say that you're a drunk or that you're crazy. Even Granger doesn't talk about you in public."

"At my request." Harry countered. "I didn't want my reputation, or lack thereof, to affect her work."

"Either way, you aren't the Harry Potter that your generation grew up reading about."

"I was never that person."

"No, Harry, you were." Neville said softly. "During the Battle of Hogwarts, you became the legend that we had read about. Of course we knew that those stories were fake but once the Second War started, there was a reason we followed you. There was a reason that we joined Dumbledore's Army, Harry. We believed in you."

"But something is different now, Potter, and everyone can see that." Proudfoot continued. "So, pardon me if I'm out of line, but I don't fucking trust you. I'm here because if I quit, I lose my job. So, I'll stay but you can bet that I'll be reporting back to Robards and Shacklebolt the second that you lose it, which for my money will happen sooner rather than later."

Harry knew that this wasn't going to be easy but he didn't expect this kind of open revolt so quickly. In a way, though, Harry was glad that they were challenging him. It would make him work harder.

"You're all right." Harry admitted. "I haven't been in a good way for a long time but things are changing. I know that isn't going to change your opinion right away but give me time to prove it to you. I will listen to your input and make decisions as I see fit. Right now, that means Malfoy stays. If that is too much for you to handle, there is the door."

Instantly, Neville stood and made his way towards the door. Before he could get there, Harry stood and spoke.

"But is your concern over Malfoy really worth leaving, Neville? You may not trust me but you know there's real work to be done here. No one else at the Ministry is going after these guys. If we don't, if you don't, who will?"

Neville stopped, his hand reaching for the door. Eventually, he turned back to the rest of the team.

"Give us the room."

"Neville-" Hermione started before Harry interrupted him.

"You heard him." Harry said firmly, looking to Hermione to lead the rest of the team.

In time, she folded, nodding slowly as she stood and walked out of the room. Seeing her go, everyone else followed her lead, leaving Harry and Neville alone. Once everyone was gone, Harry stood, matching Neville.

"Speak your mind." Harry said calmly.

"Speak your mind?" Neville asked harshly. "Speak your mind!? Who the hell are you? What happened to the Harry that we used to know?"

"What do you mean?"

"The reason we followed you was because of how honest you were with us. When you were afraid, you told us. When you didn't know things, you told us. But in the end, when Voldemort came to wipe us off the map, you told us to be strong. You told us to believe in you and we did because you had never lied to us before."

"And I still haven't."

"There's a difference between lying and not telling the whole truth, Harry." Neville replied. "How do you really feel about Malfoy being here?"

"What does it matter?"

"That kind of answer is exactly my point!" Neville exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Sixth year, if I had asked you that question, you would have answered."

"You think I would have but there's a chance that I would have been lying." Harry said softly. "In fact, I know I would have been. There was so much that I was hiding from everyone back then."

"Of course you were. You always knew more than we did and there's a reason for that. But you would have given us something. You would have let us in, even if just for a little bit."

"Then what's your point, Neville?"

"Who are you letting in now? You expect us to work with you, to work for you. But you don't trust any of us. Why are we supposed to trust you? And if we can't trust you, then how can we possibly trust him?"

Harry had to admit that Neville had a point.

"Things are different." Harry admitted, sitting down slowly. "I don't see the world the same way that I did before. I used to think that the world was naturally a good place, that people cared about. Then, the war ended and I saw how everyone treated me. Either they had no use for me anymore and ignored me or they treated me as a savior, attempting to take over every aspect in my life."

"You're talking about Ginny."

"I'm talking about more than just her, although she was the most aggressive example."

"So the world is a dark and scary place. Why does that change things?"

"It changes everything." Harry cried. "There was nothing to believe in anymore. I know that Ron and Hermione tried to help but it didn't really matter. I dug in further and further until any light that was out there was just gone. I couldn't see it anymore and so I hid from the world, fearing that it would eventually swallow me whole."

"So what made you decide to come back?"

"A couple of things. Hermione, for one." Harry admitted. "But there were some other things that led me back to the world."

"Does she know what else changed you?"

"She does."

"And I can assume that she was the one that talked you into this?"

"How do you know it wasn't my idea?"

"Even this version of Harry Potter is never going to seek attention." Neville reasoned.

"True." Harry admitted. "Yes, she was the one who came up with the original idea."

"OK." Neville said as he finally sat down. "Here's the deal, Harry: I still don't trust you. However, until I'm given a very good reason not to, I still trust her. So, until you give her a reason not to trust you, I will follow your lead. But you have to let us in. This needs to be a complete team which means that we need to give us as much as you can."

"I have given you everything I can, Neville. This is a government task force. There will be some things that I just can't tell you. But, know that I have told Hermione everything that I know so she is making every decision with all the information that I have."

"Why can you tell her but not us?"

"Because she's the Junior Advisor to the Minister and you're the Assistant to the Herbology Professor at Hogwarts."

"I don't like that but I can understand that." Neville agreed. "You'll tell her everything?"

"Everything."

"Then we're all good to go." Neville said firmly. "Should we get them back in here?"

"Yes. Let's go to work."


	15. Chapter 15

Harry was finishing a meeting with his team, the fifth in the last two weeks, when he noticed the front door handle turn.

Everyone on the team had been keyed into the wards in Harry's home and the whole team was there, which meant that either Ron was coming in his house or they were under attack.

Thankfully, Harry was able to release his wand when he saw Ron's red hair stick through the door. Harry hadn't seen Ron since he had punched him in the jaw weeks earlier. As Ron looked up, he was obviously surprised to see more than just himself and Harry there.

"Hermione, can you take the rest of team up to the library?" Harry said softly.

"Sure." Hermione said, eyeing Ron suspiciously. Ron's eyes locked on Hermione's as she walked out of the room with the rest of the team on her heels. Once Malfoy was out of the room, Harry turned back to Ron.

"Ron."

"Harry."

"What can I do for you?" Harry asked nervously.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Sit down then." Harry said, motioning to the seat next to him.

"Thanks." Ron said, taking the seat quickly. "I wouldn't normally have come to you."

"For what reason? Was it the punch in the face or the drinking?"

"Both." Ron grinned nervously. "Although, I have to be honest, I was surprised to see so many people here."

"Yeah, I've been working on some things."

"That's obvious." Ron mumbled. "Care to share?"

"Unfortunately, I can't." Harry said, not meeting Ron's eyes. "Let's just say that I'm leading a team for Kingsley."

"Doing what?"

"That I definitely cannot tell you."

"But you can tell her?"

"She's on the team."

"She's on the team? How the hell did you get the Junior Advisor to the Minister on your team?"

"I asked." Harry grinned before noticing that Ron did not look amused. "What?"

"She's on the team because you asked? That means that you picked her to be on your team."

"Yes?"

"Why not me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why didn't you ask for me to be on the team?"

"I don't know if you forgot but I broke your jaw in a drunken rage." Harry reasoned. "I figured that would make it difficult to work together."

"I walked out on the pair of you. That didn't change anything for you."

For a second, Harry was stunned silent. Was he really that blind?

"Of course it changed something for me!" Harry replied in frustration. "We all wore that locket, Ron. Sure, it brought out the worst in all of us but you were the only one it made want to leave."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the thought had to be there already." Harry said evenly, although he resisted the urge to ball his fists. "You changed everything when you left. But in the end, I knew that I had to forgive you. I'm not perfect so I couldn't expect you to be."

"So you forgave me but you couldn't let me be on the team? You invited Malfoy to be your team but not your best friend?"

"Ron, we're passed that point."

"Passed what point?"

"The point where we believe we're best friends."

Ron's silence was surprising. Harry expected that when the words came out of his mouth, he would get verbally assaulted. Instead, Ron just nodded.

"I suppose you're right." Ron replied, looking up at Harry. "Still friends, right?"

"Absolutely." Harry agreed sadly. "We'll always be friends. The Weasleys will always be family too. You guys adopted me when I had no family. Things have just changed between us."

"The walking out didn't help, did it?"

"Neither did the punch in the face." Harry agreed. "You're not the only guilty party in this."

For a few seconds, the pair of them sat in silence, each of them thinking of their years together.

"So what did you actually come over here for?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Don't do that." Harry ordered. "You came over for a reason. What was it?"

"It's Ginny."

If there was anything that Harry was expecting, that was certainly not it. No one talked to him about Ginny and for fairly good reason. Their split was anything but amicable.

Put another way, Ginny was angry enough at Harry to take a position with a Quidditch club in Brazil.

"What about her?" Harry said, his mood significantly lower.

"She's gone missing."

"Can you say that again? I thought you said she went missing."

"She's been playing rather poorly recently. Apparently, she scored in the wrong goal during her last match."

"Ouch."

"Yes but the worst part was that she didn't show up for the last game."

"She just didn't show up? At all?"

"They checked her apartment and she wasn't there. They talked to a couple friends she had made down there and none of them knew where she had gone. One of them had even gone to the match expecting to see her there."

"That doesn't seem like something she would do."

"Exactly." Ron agreed. "So, I'm taking a leave of absence and I'm going down to Brazil to go look for her. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

"I would but-"

"But you're busy."

"I am." Harry said with regret. "You could see if Hermione would go with you."

"She won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because she made her decision already."

"When did you ask her?

"I didn't."

"So then how do you know what she would do?"

"Because she stayed with you."

Finally, Harry understood exactly what Ron was saying. Taking a deep breath, Harry pressed forward.

"She stayed with me because she knew that we had a mission we needed to complete. She also stayed with me because she knew that you were being a complete nut."

"In my defense, I did have one-eighth of a Dark Lord's soul wrapped around my neck."

"But she didn't choose you over me. She chose the mission and doing what needed to be done."

"Yet, when push came to shove after the war, she still remains associated with you but not me."

"My relationship with Hermione has no bearing on yours."

"Really?" Ron challenged. "Did you ever ask why we broke up?"

"I didn't particularly care." Harry admitted. "I wanted both of you to be happy. I was trying to be supportive of the both of you."

"That's nice." Ron replied, a marked tone of condescension in his voice. "Meanwhile, we were arguing over you."

"Why?"

"Because you had started drawing inward and drinking and we had different strategies on how to deal with you. She wanted to give you time to work things out and let you figure out your own path."

"What did you want to do?"

"Put my wand so far up your arse that you would have no choice but to get your act together."

"I'm glad you decided to go with Hermione's plan."

"There was no decision made, Harry. It literally destroyed our relationship. Any argument we had eventually turned back to you. Every time we saw you and you were drunk off your ass, it brought the conversation back up. Every. Single. Time."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. You weren't really paying attention to anything other than yourself."

"Nevermind the fact that I was, and am still, seeing visions of dead friends and family."

"But you hid that from us." Ron shot back. "We didn't know that. We thought that you were just hiding from us."

"How was I supposed to breach that particular subject? Oh, by the way, I'm seeing visions of every person that I loved during the war and drinking puts me to sleep so that I don't have to see them anymore."

"We didn't hide anything from each other before. What changed about that?"

"What changed was that you guys had the life that the pair of you had secretly wanted since some time during second year." Harry countered. "I didn't want to ruin that for you."

"You still did. By hiding from Hermione and I, you killed any chance we ever had." Ron said, barely hiding a wave of resentment.

"It's all on me?" Harry asked. "None of this has to do with either of you?"

"Of course it has to do with the two of us. In the end, the people we became after the war were barely compatible. After years of worrying and fighting, I just wanted to relax and be happy with a life that didn't involve chasing after Dark wizards. Meanwhile, she turned into more of a freak, literally living in her office at times to make sure that every person in the world has the freedom they deserve."

"She's one of the few people that could make that happen."

"She may be the only one." Ron smirked. "Either way, that's not going to make for a happy life, mate. But, I think that if we hadn't had our best friend trying to kill himself with Ogden's, we would have just recognized it and walked away as friends."

"I was never trying to kill myself."

"Not even that night?"

The night that Ron was referring to was the night immediately after Harry's disappearance from Hogwarts. Feeling as out of control as he had ever been, Harry had gone through four bottles of Ogden's before Ron had found him.

For once, the drink hadn't made his visions disappear. Instead, they increased. Eventually, Harry had been surrounded by the faces of every single person that he could remember who had died during the war and before it for him. Normally, Harry would have recognized a correlation between the alcohol and the visions but that night was unique.

So, Harry had pushed forward until he had ended up sobbing on the floor. The alcohol had rushed through his body until, by the time that Ron found him, he was barely breathing. If Ron had arrived any later, Harry may not have made it through the night.

"That night was different." Harry muttered softly.

"If you say so." Ron said in obvious disbelief. "Either way, you may not have broken us up in the end, but you certainly made it a more explosive separation."

"Well, I don't know exactly how to handle that." Harry admitted. "I'm sorry. We both know that I wasn't in a very good way then."

"Certainly an understatement."

"Obviously." Harry replied.

"Honestly, there's nothing we can do about it now." Ron said with finality as he stood. "I'll make sure to keep the pair of you up to date."

"I'm sorry, Ron." Harry said honestly. "I wish things had been different."

"You're not the only one, mate." Ron replied. "But who knows? Maybe given a few years, we can rebuild things."

"Ronald Weasley, that may be the most mature thing you've ever said."

"Ron." he said evenly. "Only she could get away with calling me that."

"Fair enough."

"Tell her I said hi. Would you?"

"You can tell her yourself."

Suddenly, Harry turned around to see Hermione standing in the doorway behind the pair of them.

"How long have you been standing there?" Harry asked.

"Just a few seconds." Hermione replied. "I was coming down to get some tea."

"Well, I won't stand in your way then." Ron replied, turning back towards the door.

"It was good to see you." Hermione interjected, stopping Ron where he stood. Slowly, Ron turned in place, an awkward smile on his face.

"Same to you, 'Mione." Ron said with an earnest smile. "How's work treating you?"

"Busy as always, especially now that Harry's wrangled me in."

Instantly, the brief smile on Ron's face faded, obviously impacted by Hermione's mention of her being on Harry's team.

"Yeah." Ron said without enthusiasm. "Well, you two have fun with that."

"Thanks for coming by, Ron." Harry said sadly, knowing the pain that his friend was in as he looked at Hermione longingly.

"Yeah." Ron said, looking as if there was something else he wanted to say before chickening out. "Bye for now."

With that, Ron turned and walked out the door, leaving two-thirds of the Golden Trio standing in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, staring at the empty space where Ron had previously stood.

Almost instantly, Hermione turned to leave before Harry spoke up.

"Don't even think about it." Harry growled, forcing Hermione to stop and look at him in confusion.

"What?"

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"That I was the reason that Ron and you broke up."

For a second, Hermione looked confused before sitting down at the table.

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me that you two fought about how to deal with me. Constantly."

"That much is true."

"He also said that every fight that the two of you had eventually circle around to me."

"That was also true."

"Care to explain?" Harry exasperated.

"Not particularly."

"Not particularly!?" Harry shouted. "I was literally the reason that the two of you broke up and you never thought to tell me?"

"It was none of your business. It was between the two of us."

"Be that as it may, what part of you thought that I would be happy to learn about this?"

"I had hoped that Ronald would be able to keep his mouth shut about it for longer than this but I apparently expected too much from him."

"Don't try and put this entirely on him." Harry countered. "Ron only came around here sparingly after the two of you broke up. You were here frequently. I expect Ron to hide things like this from me, but I don't expect that from you."

"Why are there different expectations for me versus him?"

"Because you're two different people! Because you and I have never had secrets."

"Never had secrets, Harry?" Hermione said, an instant tone of challenge in her voice. "So the fact that you were seeing visions of dead people doesn't count as a secret?"

"I never said I was perfect." Harry admitted. "The difference was that my secret was only hurting me and your secret was hurting two people."

"You are seriously stupid enough to think that your secret was only impacting you?" Hermione roared before backing down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you stupid. But are you serious about thinking that it hurt only you?"

"Who else did it hurt?" Harry asked honestly.

"ME!" Hermione shouted, tears forming as she fought for control. "Do you have any idea what it was like? What it's still like sometime? Have you ever had to watch the person that you care about most become a shell of himself?"

"I've watched people die, Hermione!"

"There's a difference." Hermione said evenly. "When someone is dead, you can create an image of that person. It will never change. Until you die, you will have a perfect image of Sirius that will be perfect. Of course, you will miss him but until you die, he will remain unchanged."

"What's your point?"

"My image of you doesn't get that luxury, Harry." Hermione said softly, leaning closer to Harry. "I only get to see you as you actually are. Watching you try and destroy yourself? Watching a person that you care about whither away into nothing is more painful than I can describe. But when that person is as talented and capable as you are, it just makes it worse."

Despite Harry's proclivity in his youth to think more of others than himself, Harry had ignored this fact. While Harry's behavior could be easily explained, that didn't mean that there were other factors to think about and how his behavior affected those that cared about him was one that he had ignored, probably willingly.

"I don't know what to say, Hermione." Harry admitted. "It's not like things have been easy."

"Things haven't been easy on anyone. You've had a lot to deal with but you're not the only one. As much as you felt otherwise, the people that died in the war weren't your family. Each one of them had a family of their own who had to deal with the death."

"The Weasleys were my family." Harry replied.

"Yet you haven't been to The Burrow since Fred's funeral."

"Do you remember George's speech to me?"

"He doesn't live there anymore."

"His family does."

"You just said that they were your family."

"They were my family, Hermione." Harry said sullenly. "I let them down."

"You didn't let anyone down!" Hermione shouted, throwing her hands up in frustration as she walked away from Harry, pacing around the room, her hands running through her hair. "Voldemort was a threat. Harry, he was the ultimate threat. In a situation like that, there's no way to win without a loss of life."

"Maybe but there had to have been something we could do!"

"We did!" Hermione said, stepping forward, getting to within a few inches from Harry's face. "We found the Horcruxes and destroyed them and then you destroyed him. We didn't have supplies and we lacked information. The fact that we succeeded at all is a miracle."

"No, it isn't."

"Excuse me?"

"It's not a miracle." Harry said honestly.

"How can you say that?"

"A miracle would have been if I had done it alone or if I had done it with just Ron. Maybe if I had gone out there with Ginny and Ron instead, that would have been a miracle. What happened wasn't a miracle, Hermione, because you were there."

"If it wasn't a miracle, then what was it?"

"Just a matter of time." Harry said softly. "There's something I want to tell you and you have to promise not to tell anyone, especially any of the Weasleys."

"What?" Hermione asked, a look of worry on her face. "What is it?"

"When I found out that we were going to have to search for the Horcruxes, my original intention was to go alone."

"I knew that, Harry. Ron and I convinced you to not be such a dunce."

"Which I am grateful for." Harry grinned. "However, I did have one final plan that never quite got put into action."

"What do you mean?"

"After the wedding, I was going to come to you that night. I had my bags packed and I know that you had yours packed. In truth, I was going to come and get you and disappear that night."

As Harry spoke, he analyzed the look on Hermione's face which came to a sudden realization.

"You didn't want him to come with us?"

"I didn't want him to leave his family." Harry admitted. "Even when he was helpful to us, he was only half there. Meanwhile, I don't have a family, as he was so kind to remind me, and you had already done everything you could to protect yours."

"But how could you just leave him here?" Hermione asked. "He's your best friend."

"Hermione, he's my oldest friend but he hadn't been my best friend for quite some time."

"What do you mean?"

"The Goblet of Fire ring any bells?" Harry asked. "More than anything, trust means a lot to me."

"I know, Harry."

"So, I lost that trust in Ron for a bit after my name came out of the Goblet." Harry admitted. "We were able to patch things up over time but it said something about the two of you, the different reactions you had. I can't tell you how much it meant to me that you believed me. I also don't think I have to tell you how angry I was that he didn't. While we never talked about or directly addressed it, there's no question who I was closer to after that."

"But after that, Ron never really disagreed with you. He was always right there until the tent."

"Yes, but is that what makes you a good friend?" Harry asked. "If I wanted someone as my best friend who would never disagree with me, I would have spent all my time with Dobby."

"Too true."

"So we argued over Deathly Hallows and trips to Godric's Hollow and who knows what else. But in the end, I knew that you and I trusted each other. That means more than I could ever ask for."

"I suppose." Hermione agreed before turning back to Harry. "You were really going to leave him?"

"In my head, my job was to make sure that you were safe. If you were safe, then your mind would lead us where we needed to go."

"Then why didn't we just ignore the Hallows altogether?"

"Because I had that strong of a feeling that they were going to be helpful."

"I suppose you were right in the end. It took all three of them to beat Voldemort."

"All three and a hell of a lot of luck."

"Also true."

Finally, Hermione stood, moving towards the door to go upstairs.

"Let's just not keep secrets anymore, ok?"

"I think we can do that." Harry grinned, joining her. "Shall we get back to work?"

"You mean shall we make sure that Malfoy and Neville have killed each other?"

"That too." Harry grinned before marching back up the stairs.

Feeling better about things, Harry lead the way back up the stairs, hoping that they were going to come across something, anything, that would lead them to one of the Death Eaters.

Little did he know, that time was almost upon them.


	16. Chapter 16

Working late was a common occurrence for Hermione Granger. Being interrupted by someone while she was working late was a much rarer happening.

Being interrupted by Ron Weasley never happened.

Not since the pair of them had broken up anyway.

So when Hermione looked up at her open door to see him standing in the doorway, she was surprised to say the least.

"What are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too."

"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised to see you here."

"I wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"Harry."

This was definitely not how Hermione had expected the end of her day to go. Closing the documents in front of her, Hermione pointed to the chair in front of her, motioning for Ron to see. As he did, he spoke his piece.

"Is he ready for this?"

"Ready for what?"

"Being back out in the world again."

"Ron, weren't you and I just pushing him to get out of the house a few weeks ago."

"Yes, but I just wanted him to come visit my flat, go to Diagon Alley, maybe get a job. I wasn't expecting this."

"To be honest, neither was I." Hermione agreed.

"Did you put him up to this?" Ron asked firmly.

"I never asked him about it. I told Kingsley that I wouldn't."

"But it was your idea." Ron commented.

"Yes, it was my idea. The task force needed Harry to be a success. No one knows the Death Eaters like he does and the Ministry wouldn't have authorized it anyway without him. Yes, I wanted him to do it but I never wanted it to be because of me. That's why I told Kingsley that I would resign rather than ask Harry to do it."

"Wow. Those are big words."

"I suppose."

For a second, the pair sat in silence, both of them silently contemplating the situation before them. Hermione hoped that one day, things wouldn't be weird between her and Ron. It had been her worst fear when she had agreed to start dating Ron. Unfortunately, that fear had come to pass and now the pair of them had trouble just being in the same room together.

Normally, Harry was there to buffer. Now, they were on their own.

"How is he doing?" Ron asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's obviously had some problems. You say he's ready and I believe you. But you don't worry about it being too much for him all at once?"

"I do worry about it." Hermione admitted. "He still has a drink almost every night. I caught him mumbling to himself last week. Personally, I think he was seeing someone but when I asked him, he just said he was thinking out loud."

"And you don't think that searching for Death Eater is going to make it worse?"

"We can't know, can we?" Hermione replied. "He seems to be getting better but I think we're fooling ourselves if we think that things aren't going to get worse before they're going to get better."

"What do you mean?"

"We're chasing after Death Eaters, Ron. Sure, some of them will go down easily. But Dolohov? Lestrange? They're not going to give up willingly. It's going to be a fight and it's going to be a fight that Harry is going to have to be involved in."

Ron looked away, an unknown look on his face. That alone was a strange sight for Hermione. For the longest time, every thought and emotion that Ron had was written on his face. But now, life had thrown Hermione for a curve. Now, there was enough distance between the two of them that Hermione found it challenging to figure out exactly what Ron was thinking.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Why does he have to be involved?"

"Excuse me?"

"You just said that this is a fight that Harry is going to have to be involved in. But why? Why can't anyone else do it?"

"Because they're not afraid of anyone else."

"And they're afraid of Harry?"

"From everything we've heard, Harry is the only person that they believe can beat them. Remember, the Elder Wand and all of that never got out to the public. There was enough commotion going on during the Battle that almost no one heard that part of the story."

"Which is remarkable."

"No joke. But they think that it's just a myth. There's a significant portion of the Death Eaters that believe that Harry had some sort of extra power that defeated Voldemort."

"They were right, weren't they? It was his mum's protection that beat Riddle."

"It was but that's gone now."

"They still might be right."

"How do you mean?"

"I dueled him, Hermione, and he was drunk out of his mind when he thrashed me. Sober? I wouldn't want to get close to a duel with him."

"Maybe, but we're hoping that it doesn't come down to a personal duel between Harry and Dolohov."

"Sure, you can hope that but how often does what we want come to pass, 'Mione? No matter the amount of planning we've ever did ended up mattering."

"That may be true but I'd like to think that we're better at this now. After all, we have more resources and definitely more practice."

"Well, here's hoping." Ron smiled before checking the clock on the wall. "Well, I need to get back to Hogsmeade and make sure that Verity hasn't burned down the shop."

"Aren't you more likely to do that?"

"Definitely." Ron agreed. "Keep an eye on him for me, would you?"

"Of course. You know I would never let anything happen to him for as long as I could help it."

"Obviously I know that. How do you think he's still alive today?"

For weeks, Harry and his team had been interviewing witnesses to random Death Eater attacks, double-checking all of the facts on Wood's current investigation and generally turning over every stone in the Ministry of Magic to try and catch even a single Death Eater.

So far, they had encountered exactly zero Death Eaters.

But about a week after Ron's appearance at Grimmauld Place, that would change.

For the first time in a few days, Harry was actually home alone. Hermione had taken to sleeping in the guest room frequently and the pair of them often Apparated to the Ministry together. From there, Harry would march to the Auror Office's evidence room to review old case files while Hermione spent her mornings catching up on work for her actual job.

On this morning, however, Harry was at home, waiting for Neville. On the night before, Neville had taken it upon himself to "observe" a few known Death Eater sympathizers.

Muggles would have called it a "stakeout."

So, when Harry heard the door open, he turned, expecting to see Neville walking in.

Instead, he was graced with the presence of Draco Malfoy.

"What?" Harry grunted.

"I have news. Big news."

"Spit it out then."

"Thorfinn Rowle."

"What about him?"

"He's in the open."

"Excuse me?"

Thorfinn Rowle, a Death Eater of legendarily brutal renown, was one of Antonin Dolohov's closest friends and most destructive enforcers. After everything Harry had looked at over the last few weeks, Harry was almost certain that Rowle was now to Dolohov what Dolohov himself had been to Voldemort.

"Rowle is out recruiting someone. I'm not exactly sure who but my sources have spotted him in Knockturn Alley."

"If you had to guess-"

"If I had to guess, he's recruiting Nott. Theodore operates a shop down there now and his father was a Death Eater."

"And if not him?"

"Zabini or Greengrass. Zabini works for Nott, although he's not particularly useful other than for his money. Same for Greengrass especially since Dolohov wouldn't value a woman for anything other than-"

"That's enough." Harry said, preventing him from finishing what would have surely been a vulgar line. "How long do we have?"

"An hour? Maybe two? He was at the Slithering Serpent."

"The what?"

"The Leaky Cauldron for Knockturn Alley."

"Creative name there."

"I didn't come up with it." Malfoy snapped back. "Anyway, he's there. When he moves, that's when we'll know who he's recruiting."

"So, we need to have eyes on him. We need to let him have his meeting to see who he's recruiting and then we need to take both Rowle and his recruit down."

"Seems like the best plan to me."

"Good." Harry said before throwing on his cloak. "You wait here. Neville should be here shortly. You take him and Proudfoot and you blend in on the streets."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting Wood and Hermione and we're going to follow on the rooftops. Once you have confirmation of his contact, you take the contact and we'll take Rowle."

"Don't you think I should take Rowle? He knows me."

"Exactly. I want him to be surprised. Plus, we do need to make a bit of a statement and this is the best way to do that."

"You always were an attention whore."

"Just do your job, Malfoy." Harry growled.

With a turn, Harry Apparated, landing in the center of the Ministry Atrium. Knowing that running would cause undue attention, Harry stalked off towards Hermione's office, his head tilted towards the floor. Still, he was aware of the eyes on him as he pressed forward.

As long as he was alive, the eyes would always be there.

After a quick ride in the elevator, Harry arrived at Hermione's office. Without knocking, Harry burst in to find Hermione in the middle of a meeting between herself, Percy and a few foreign diplomats. Without apology, Harry marched forward.

"We have to go."

"Harry, I'm in the middle of a very important-"

"Hermione, we have to go."

Instantly, the importance of this moment shown on Hermione's face. With a frustrated smile, Hermione turned to the rest of the room's occupants.

"I am sorry but I have to go. Percy, you can continue this meeting without me and let me know what happens."

"Hermione, you set this meeting up."

"We both know that Harry wouldn't be here if it weren't very important." Hermione said, a threatening look aimed at Harry. "Right, Harry?"

"Absolutely." Harry said honestly.

"Good." Hermione said before turning back to Harry. "Let's go."

With a nod, Harry stepped back out of the way as Hermione raced by them. As the pair of them cleared the door, Hermione spoke.

"You mind telling me why I just walked out of my most important meeting all week."

"Malfoy got intel that Rowle is in the open."

"Rowle. Like Thorfinn Rowle?"

"The same."

"Why would he be out in the open?"

"Malfoy thinks he's recruiting. If he is, we're going to be able to get two birds with one stone."

"How is that?"

"We're going to follow Rowle until he leaves his meeting. Once that happens, Malfoy's squad will take out the contact while you, Wood and I hit Rowle himself."

"You gave Malfoy a squad?"

"I didn't have time to be picky."

"I suppose." Hermione said softly as they entered the Auror Offices. Moving their way towards the back, Harry and Hermione arrived at Oliver's office. For a second, he didn't notice the presence of the rest of his team as he was engrossed in the paperwork on his desk.

However, just a beat after they entered the room, Wood looked up, a stern look on his face.

"Is it time?"

"Rowle."

"Got it." Wood said, standing to put on his cloak. With the anti-Apparation wards established in the bowels of the Ministry, they would have to return to the Atrium to Apparate out. Thankfully, this would give Harry time to fill Hermione and Wood in on his part of the plan.

"Here's the deal: we have Thorfinn Rowle in the open at an establishment known as The Slithering Serpent."

"Great name." Wood said snidely.

"Noted." Harry commented before continuing on. "Sometime within the next hour or so, he will move to somewhere within Knockturn Alley, meet with his contact and then disappear. Our task is to ensure that Malfoy's team knows who Rowle's recruit is and then capture Rowle before he has the opportunity to escape."

"Thankfully, the Ministry has made this a whole lot easier for us with the new Apparation points."

Apparation points were a security measure added to public wizarding locations within the last year. Now, the rest of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys were warded from Apparation. This meant that the only place that you could Apparate to was Phoenix Square, the newly named center of Diagon Alley.

This point was closer to all of Knockturn Alley than the exit into the rest of London. If Rowle did seek to disappear that way, Harry and his team would be able intercept before he could escape.

As the trio approached the Atrium, Hermione spoke up.

"Have we considered that this could be a trap?"

"I have." Harry admitted. "I've even considered that there is the possibility that this is a trap laid by Malfoy himself."

"And?"

"It doesn't matter. This is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss. If that means that we get hit in return or at the same time we hit him, then that's the risk we take. Either way, it will be worth it if we get Rowle."

"And if we don't?" Wood asked as they approached the Apparation point.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, we go with Plan A."

"Since when does Plan A work with us, Harry?"

"Here's hoping that changes."

Finally, Harry, Hermione and Wood hit the Apparation point. In an instant, Harry grabbed both Wood and Hermione and turned, sucking the pair of them along with them. As they landed on the roof of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was able to grab both of them to make sure they stayed on their feet.

"God, I hate that." Wood grumbled.

"Do you have the ear?" Harry asked to Hermione.

"I do, thankfully. You didn't think to ask until now?"

"I just assumed that you had it. You still carry your bag around with you everywhere."

"Force of habit." Hermione said as she stuck her entire arm inside her handbag and withdrew a small device that Harry had nicknamed "The Ear." Based on the same magic that the Weasley's had used for their Extendable Ears, this device instead allowed long distance communication between two people that had their own Ears.

Taking the Ear from Hermione, he placed it in his ear and spoke.

"Malfoy?"

"Here."

"Where are you?

"All three of us are currently sharing a booth in the Serpent. By the way, you had to send Longbottom with me? Even under the concealment charms that we're using, I've never seen someone look so pathetic."

"Malfoy. That's enough."

"He says that he doesn't like it in here. Something about Dark magic and Pureblood bias. I call bullshit."

"I'm not asking, Draco. Knock it the fuck off." Harry growled, thankful that he was far above the streets of Diagon Alley so that no one could hear him. "Let us know when he's moving. We will be in place."

"We will?" Hermione asked. "How are we going to do that?"

"The rooftops of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley all connect." Harry said softly as he took off towards the darker rooftops of Knockturn Alley.

"How do you know that?"

"In the days after the Battle, I needed a place to wander. But I still wanted to feel that connection to the rest of the wizarding world. So, I snuck into Flourish and Blott's one evening and climbed to the roof. Originally, I was just going to hide up there for awhile. That was until I realized that all of these buildings were built together, like they were one large building. For the remaining weeks until I disappeared from the world, I would come up here and wander around."

"Why here though?" Wood asked as they kept walking.

"I could still hear the commotion of the Alley below. It made me feel like I was still a part of the world, even when I wanted nothing more than to escape it."

Talking about the way Harry felt in the days after the Battle was cathartic, even in front of someone like Wood. Oliver was a strange representative of a life long past. Outside of Hogwarts, Harry had no interaction with Wood. It wasn't until Harry recruited Wood to join his team that he was able to talk with him.

In their years together at Hogwarts, Wood had been intense, sometimes to a fault. Now, whether it was age or the impact of the war, he had calmed and seemed generally more relaxed about life, even as he worked on a daily basis to bring in the darkest of wizards.

Other than Hermione, Wood had probably been the best addition to Harry's team. He was smart, talented and well connected within the structure of the Ministry. He had made for the perfect mole. No one ever suspected that Wood would be political enough to report potential misgivings to the Ministry, a task he was completing on a daily basis during his time on Harry's team.

"Let's move." Harry said as he began moving towards Knockturn Alley. All it took was a few twists and turns and one five foot gap to jump over and within just a few minutes, Harry, Hermione and Wood were standing across the way from the Slithering Serpent. From where they were standing, they could easily see through the large front windows.

Sitting at the booth closest the windows were three people that Harry normally wouldn't have recognized. Thankfully, Harry did recognize them as the disguises of Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy and Proudfoot. A quick nod from Malfoy let Harry know that he had seen them before Hermione discretely cast three perfect Disillusionment Charms, making them nearly invisible to the naked eye.

Further back in the seedy bar, Harry could see the hulking mass of Thorfinn Rowle. What Harry couldn't see, however, was his contact as Rowle's large frame blocked his line of sight.

"We can't get eyes on his guest." Harry muttered into the Ear.

"Neither can we." Malfoy whispered. "I'm fairly certain that some of these booths are Rowle's backup in disguise."

"Great." Harry growled. "When he moves, stay put. We will split up and track both Rowle and his contact. Hermione and I will move with Rowle. After a few minutes, Malfoy and Proudfoot, you need to communicate with Wood to catch up with the contact. Neville, you'll get to us."

"Understood." Malfoy answered.

"Do you think that Malfoy could be part of this?" Wood asked as Malfoy cut out.

"I don't trust Malfoy as far as I can Banish him." Harry answered. "He's largely on the team because I don't completely know his allegiances. However, currently I have nothing to suggest that he's looking to break his plea agreement."

"Here's hoping." Hermione said softly.

For the next forty minutes, everyone on the task force remained in place, simply watching and waiting for Rowle's meeting to be completed. It was boring work, watching the outside of shady bar from the rooftop of an adjacent building, but it needed to be done.

Eventually, Rowle stood and all of their work and patience paid off. As Rowle replaced his cloak around his shoulders, Harry was able to get a full look at his contact: Narcissa Malfoy.

"Draco, do you have anything to say about this?"

Silence was the reply that Harry got for several seconds. Finally, Draco grunted into the Ear and then replied.

"No. Mother wouldn't support Dolohov. She hated him."

"Then why is she sitting there with Dolohov's second?" Hermione asked him.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Mother doesn't look happy. It could be that Dolohov is threatening my family without my knowledge. That definitely seems like something he would do."

"Agreed." Harry muttered. "Well, this changes things. Leave Narcissa for the time being. When Rowle leaves, trail behind two blocks. Once we determine whether he's going to leave via Phoenix Square or Muggle London, we'll head him out. Things will probably get explosive."

"So get there as soon as we can when we hear the fireworks."

"Exactly." Harry said softly just as Rowle stepped out of the front door. "Target is in the open."

Obviously paranoid, Rowle took a quick look to his left and his right before nearly running towards Phoenix Square. Instantly, Harry took off at a sprint.

"The square." Harry grunted as he sprinted.

After a minute of winding his way towards Phoenix Square atop of the roofs of Diagon Alley, Harry reached the last building before the square opened up. Not breaking stride, Harry leapt from the roof, drawing his wand and firing a Cushioning Charm at the ground below. This slowed him down just enough to hit the ground that he was able to roll to his feet.

As he did, he removed the Disillusionment and leveled his wand at Thorfinn Rowle, who was stunned to see a very mobile Harry Potter aiming a wand at him.

"Thorfinn Rowle, by decree of the Ministry of Magic, you are under arrest for crimes against the people of England."

For a second, the square was silent as everyone realized that Harry Potter was capturing a Death Eater in the middle of the square. As Rowle stood silent, the rest of the square retreated into the buildings around it, seeking the security they may provide.

Above all things, Rowle had a reputation as a brawler. He never backed down from a fight.

Harry didn't expect him to back away from this one either. So, when he drew his wand and fired a Killing Curse, Harry was ready to duck under it and return fire. Rolling to his feet, Harry stood and fired his own Cutting Curse.

A quick side step and Rowle was out of the way. However, Rowle appeared unready for one thing.

Back-up.

As he lined up to fire again, a spell crushed him in the side, throwing him off his feet. Turning, Harry saw a grinning Hermione running towards him.

"Thanks for the assist."

"Not a problem." Hermione said, a grin still plastered to her face.

They were both smiling until a red curse passed directly between them. Rowle was nothing if not tough and when Harry turned to see Rowle standing, he wasn't surprised. Of course, Rowle did look terrible, blood running from a large gash on his forehead and his left arm appeared to be dislocated, hanging strangely from his shoulder.

"You will die, Potter!" Rowle barked before raising his wand again.

Instantly, Harry and Hermione split, one to the left, the other to the right. Another curse fired directly in between them as they ran. Harry stopped and fired a single Stinging Hex that hit Rowle on his already injured arm. For a second, it appeared that Rowle would stop, falling to one knee and grimacing in pain.

But with a animal-like roar, Rowle stood and unleashed a torrent of a green light, a rapid fire of Killing Curses. At this point, Harry knew that Rowle was at his most dangerous, quite literally an animal backed into a corner as Malfoy's team came up from behind.

Waving them off, Harry stepped forward looking to Stun Rowle when he got the chance. But getting close was dangerous. Rowle was no longer firing Killing Curses but everything he was throwing had the potential to be lethal. Harry was forced to constantly block and dodge to keep from being hit.

As Harry got within firing range, Rowle increased his output. He was visibly tired and the blood from his injury was now in his eyes, likely blinding him.

Finally, Harry was in position, close enough to hit Rowle without Rowle being able to hit him. However, just as Harry raised his wand, he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

Just like him, Hermione had inched close enough to Stun Rowle. Unfortunately, one of her shields hadn't been quick enough and a Cutting Curse struck Hermione directly in the chest. Blood sprayed from the wound as she collapsed to the ground unconscious.

For a moment, all Harry could do was stare at Hermione as she floated to the ground. But the second she touched the ground, Harry felt a rage flow through him like he had never experienced before.

Turning towards Rowle, Harry let that rage explode. First, he fired a Bludgeoning Curse that broke through all of the spells that Rowle was throwing. The curse hit him directly in the chest, blasting him to the ground.

The moment Rowle hit the ground, his assault intensified. A Cutting Curse removed Rowle's wand hand and a Blasting Curse mangled what was left of his right arm. Finally, Harry used a new curse he had learned that removed all of the air from a person's lungs.

Harry watched with satisfaction as Rowle realized that his death was upon him.

"Harry!"

Suddenly, the spell that Harry had been under dissipated and he realized what he had nearly done. Removing the spell, Harry turned to see Neville and Malfoy staring at him, a look of horror on their faces. He ignored them for the time being as he approached Hermione, who Wood and Proudfoot were working on.

"How is she?"

"She'll live." Wood said softly. "She's lucky we were able to get here when we did."

"She'll be luckier than Rowle will." Malfoy muttered. "You nearly killed him."

"I know." Harry said softly as he stood. "Neville, Wood: get her to St. Mungo's. Don't leave her until she's discharged. Malfoy, Proudfoot: take Rowle to the Ministry."

"Where are you going?" Nevilled asked softly.

"I need to report to Kingsley."

Ten minutes later, Harry was sitting in the office of the Minister of Magic with a very disturbed looking Kingsley Shacklebolt staring at him.

"What happened?"

"I already told you what happened." Harry muttered.

"No, you recited the events back to me." Kingsley countered harshly. "You did not tell me what happened."

"What more do you need to know?"

"I need to know why Thorfinn Rowle is being healed by St. Mungo's Healers in my holding cells."

"I told you that in order to bring him in, I was forced to injure."

At this, Kingsley, for the first time in Harry's memory, exploded.

"Don't give me that, Harry!" Kingsley shouted, throwing a paperweight against the wall. "He doesn't have a right arm anymore! There's no way that was warranted."

"I know."

"So what happened? Because the front page of the Prophet tomorrow is going to have an image of you attacking Rowle on it. There are going to be people who are going to call for your removal."

"There will probably also be those that think I didn't go far enough."

"Do you really want to win the war of public opinion with those people, Harry?" Kingsley replied. "There's justice and then there's vengeance. That second group, they want revenge. They're not interested in justice."

"I know, Kingsley. Trust me, I know."

Slowly, Kingsley moved from our his desk to sit in the chair next to Harry. He gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as he spoke to him.

"I was on a task force like this once. Just after your parents were killed, a small group of Aurors were tasked with rounding up the rest of the Aurors. I was still new to the department and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. We did reprehensible things to find our targets and most of the world never knew it. But one of us screwed up and killed a target in front of nearly thirty people."

"Damn."

"The nature of these kind of teams are fickle, Harry. Financially, we can give you all the support you need. We can give you information. Hell, we can even give you people. But, the one thing that we cannot give you is public support when things go wrong. That Auror that screwed up spent nine years in Azkaban before the Ministry was able to release him for good behavior."

"Do you think that will happen to me?" Harry asked in concern.

"No." Kingsley said with a hesitant smile. "Firstly, you are Harry Potter. Like it or not, that will give you points with the public. Second, you are going to go to the Prophet and apologize for your behavior. You are going to tell the world that you are going on leave."

"Am I?"

"We'll get to that." Kingsley said thoughtfully. "First, you are going to tell me why you did what you did."

Knowing that there was no way around telling Kingsley, Harry decided that now was the best time to confide in the Minister.

"He nearly killed Hermione."

"I know. Proudfoot and Wood got her to St. Mungo's. She will be fine."

"She didn't look fine." Harry growled. "It looked like he was trying to split her into two. If he hadn't been injured, then he might have."

"But he didn't."

"I wasn't thinking about that."

"You weren't thinking at all, Harry." Kingsley scolded. "You saw your best friend attacked and you reacted on instinct. Regardless of how much field work you've did before, you were formally trained as an Auror. You know how to handle things like that in the field."

"I may have been trained to react that way, Kingsley, but I don't think I can just ignore that with her."

"Do we need to take her off the task force?"

"No!" Harry shouted before realizing just how desperate he sounded. "No, she is essential."

"To the task force or to you?"

"Both." Harry admitted. "If I am essential to the task force, then so is she. She is the only person that I still trust implicitly."

"That's unfortunate."

"It's the truth." Harry replied. "She is the one person that I know that I can go to. Without her on the task force, I am positive we would fail."

"Fair enough." Kingsley said as he stood and returned to his seat behind his desk. "Go to the Prophet and make your statement. Tell them that you are going on leave."

"Again, am I?"

"No." Kingsley said after a beat. "However, I cannot even begin to tell you how vital it is that something like this doesn't happen again. The whole point of a task force like this, Harry, is to operate in secret. The key word is secret. To the outside world, it should look like Harry Potter is taking a break."

"Understood." Harry said as he stood to leave. Before he got to the door, Kingsley interrupted him.

"Harry, if something like this happens again, there will be no protection from this office or the Ministry. You will prosecuted to the fullest extent of our laws."

"I understand." Harry said earnestly. "Thank you."

The next few days were busy ones for Harry. After releasing his public statement, Harry was inundated with requests for interviews. Thankfully, the Ministry declined all of them at their request.

Hermione remained in St. Mungo's care, recovering from a massive loss of blood. Almost every moment that Harry spent not working was at her side.

But three days later, Thorfinn Rowle awoke with a new right hand. Immediately, Harry had him transferred to an off the books location just outside of London. There, he would be held until his trial or until he cooperated.

Personally, Harry hoped it was the second option. With Rowle, they could potentially have access to information on Dolohov, the most illusive of the three splinter leaders.

Once Harry was assured that Rowle was completely recovered, Harry had Rowle moved to the black site's interrogation room so that he could speak with him. Even seated, Rowle's figure was impressive, someone remaining imposing as he was magically bonded to the chair he sat in.

With a deep breath, Harry entered the room, file in hand, and sat at the table across from him.

"Mr. Rowle, how are you today?"

"I've been better." Rowle admitted. Harry surprised at how gentle his voice sounded. If there had been any voice Harry would have expected come out of Rowle's mouth, this was not it.

"I can imagine." Harry chuckled. "Can we talk?"

"I'll listen."

"Good." Harry said as he opened the file in front of him. "This is everything we have on you. Needless to say, it was one of the larger files in the archives. Now, there are a few ways this can go."

"Really? You aren't here to burn me at the stake immediately?"

"No." Harry said softly. "This is all about how you respond."

"I'm listening."

"If you give us information that leads directly to the capture of Antonin Dolohov, all of this file was somehow be misplaced. The only thing you will stand trial for will be participation at the Battle of Hogwarts and resisting arrest in Diagon Alley, a total of seven years in Azkaban."

"How charitable." Rowle replied.

"Quite." Harry responded. "If you give us information that is beneficial to our investigation but does not directly lead to Dolohov's capture, you will stand trial for taking the Dark Mark, a life sentence."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will stand trial for everything in this file, a combined four hundred years of prison sentences. At this point, the Wizarding Court can also push for execution on the grounds of treasonous activities, which they will almost certainly do if you are convicted."

"Of course they will."

"Now, I will be honest. Some of these charges are a little more flimsy than others. However, the Dark Mark on your arm guarantees you a life inside Azkaban. So, the only way to avoid that is to help us."

For a few moments, Rowle said nothing. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, leveled his eyes at Harry and spoke.

"I think I will pass."

"On what?"

"Helping you. Within a month's time, Dolohov will have me out of here. I can wait that out."

"You are certain of that?"

"I was told that before I went to meet with Lady Malfoy."

"You're saying that Dolohov knew we would tail you?" Harry asked quickly.

"No, but it was the first time that we made a move out in the open. He was certain that someone would be there, especially with someone spying on us from within the Ministry."

"How do you know that we have spies in your ranks?"

"In our ranks? No. None of yours spies are one of us. But, whoever it is, they are like us. Pureblood, elite. Enough of our actions prior to the creation of your task force were thwarted. We knew someone had to be watching us, someone had to be collecting information. The identity of the spy remains a mystery to us, although we have our guesses."

"Interesting. I'll have to ask Kingsley about that."

"You may have the ear of the Minister, Potter, but that doesn't grant power anymore. When Dolohov takes of the Ministry, he will show you what real power is. He'll show everyone, including that Mudblood friend of yours."

Not surprisingly, the subtle mention of Hermione, still bedridden because of his assault on her, made Harry's blood boil. This time, however, Harry chose not to try and maim his target.

Still, his reaction was not altogether positive.

"Would you like to see where you'll be spending your time?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you've already made it clear that you won't be helping us. Unfortunately, we can't trust that you won't try and have an escape arranged if we send you to Azkaban. Therefore, we're keeping you here."

"Isn't that against your protocol?"

"Well, the thing about my task force is that protocol is sometimes less important than results."

Looking over Rowle's shoulder, Harry could see the outline of one of his many visions. Blinking, Harry tried to ignore the figure forming as he waved his wand. As he did, Rowle's chair levitated and began to follow Harry out of the room.

"Years back, this facility was used by the Ministry to test advanced interrogation techniques."

"Sounds like torture."

"More or less." Harry admitted. "Eventually, the whole program was shut down for being inhumane. Thankfully, this site was rediscovered a couple of years ago when searching for alternate Ministry sites after Voldemort took over."

"You dare say his name!?" Rowle growled.

"I killed him, I can say whatever I want." Harry taunted before continuing on. "Anyway, we decided to use this as a prison for those awaiting trial that we couldn't trust to leave in Azkaban. Technically, I'm not supposed to use any of the facilities here for their actual purpose."

Suddenly, Harry turned into a small cell and dropped Rowle's chair on the floor.

"But technically, this site doesn't exist anyway." Harry growled. "Here's the deal, Rowle: I gave you a very simple opportunity to place nice, give us the information we need and you would get off easy. Now, that deal is off the table and here's the new deal: give me what I want or you stay here for the rest of your life."

"What do you think is so terrifying about this place?" Rowle scoffed.

"Very simple. There is no warden here, there are no guards. There's you and there's me."

"Easier to break out."

"Yes, if you don't include that every single door in this place is warded to open for me only. When, no if, you leave, it will be because I said so."

"If there's no one here, how do you expect to get the information from me?"

"Oh, that's very simple." Harry said with a wave of his wand. Suddenly, the white walls of the room started to glow an unnatural white color. "These walls will be like this twenty four hours a day. They will change color, they will blink, they will flash. These lights are perfectly designed to keep you from resting even one minute. Yes, eventually you will collapse from exhaustion but that won't be good rest and when you wake up, it will start all over again."

Again, looking over Rowle's shoulder, Harry could see an image from his past but this time, it was no longer just an outline. Instead, Harry was treated with a fully realized version of Albus Dumbledore.

"Please don't do this, Harry."

Harry knew that his actions were extreme but they were necessary. During the last war, Harry had been reactive, only responding to external stimuli. This time, he would not make that mistake. This time, he would get ahead of the curve and end it as quickly as possible. This time, the people that he loved wouldn't die.

"Please."

"Two times a day, food will appear. It will be just enough to sustain you but not enough to keep you from getting weaker."

"I am plenty strong to survive that."

"Please, Harry. No."

"Oh, I'm sure you are physically. But, the thing that will get you, the thing that will finally break you, is the isolation. Every so often, I will come for a visit but other than those occasions, you will be on your own. For awhile, it won't be too bad. For awhile, you'll survive it. But eventually, the lack of human contact will get to you."

"Harry, stop this. This isn't you."

"You'll start to make up people."

"I know he hurt her but you can't do this."

"You'll start to see friends, family."

"Please, I'm begging, stop."

"You'll see people that you know are dead."

"Harry!"

"Until you can't tell the difference between who is real and who is dead."

Finally, Dumbledore's spectre remained silent, staring sadly at Harry as he turned and shut the door behind Rowle.

"Oh, and just so you, it seems that your court date has been postponed."

"Until when?"

"Until you give me what I want, Rowle."

As Harry turned away from the door, he waved his wind, cutting it off from the outside world. No one would be able to hear in or out.

Finally, the gravity of what Harry had just done got to him and Harry sank to the floor, sobbing. Dumbledore was right. This wasn't him. He was better than this.

Standing, Harry made to unlock the door and return Rowle to the general population when the image of Hermione sprawled out in the middle of Diagon Alley, blood covering her, flashed into his mind. In an instant, Harry stopped.

This was still wrong. He had no grand illusions that he was doing the right thing. But, if Harry could protect his friends from being hurt, maybe it would all be worth it in the end.

For over a month, Harry secretly supervised the captivity of one Thorfinn Rowle with no results. Every few days, Harry would enter Rowle's cell and ask him if he would cooperate with Harry.

Each time, Rowle would simply stare at Harry, refusing to answer any of his questions. Rowle looked miserable. His normally clean shaven face was now fully covered in a thick blonde beard and the bags under his eyes proved that he wasn't unaffected by Harry's treatment.

After a month, however, Rowle's reaction to Harry changed.

Like every other time that Harry entered the cell, he waived his wand to pause the cell's magic. Then, he entered, conjured a chair and sat. Again, he asked the same question.

"Have you rethought your answer, Mr. Rowle?"

Normally, Rowle would simply stare angrily at Harry, refusing to answer.

This time, he spoke.

"I have." Rowle said softly.

"Really?" Harry asked, sensing that he had finally broken his subject.

"Yes." Rowle replied. "Before, I said no."

"And now?"

"Now, I think I'll still say no."

"That's not a different answer." Harry replied flatly.

"Oh, it is. It's a no because I've realized that this is the worst you can do." Rowle said, suddenly smiling. "You really are pathetic. I was a Death Eater, a servant loyal to He Who Must Not Be Named. Do you really think that I'm not used to torture? That I'm not used to having my mind and body tested to its limits? Even when we succeeded, we were often rewarded with pain to remind us of our place in the Dark Lord's court."

If Harry had expected anything from Rowle, this was certainly not it. For a month, he had held back his frustration as Rowle appeared to be getting worse but somehow no closer to revealing any information on Dolohov. Harry's team had been working day and night and they were no closer to finding Dolohov than on the day they captured Rowle.

This, plus Rowle's words, put Harry over the edge.

"Where is Dolohov?" Harry growled.

"Somewhere safe."

"Where!?"

"Torture me all you want, you'll get nothing from me."

In an instant, Harry threw a punch that struck Rowle directly in the jaw.

"Where is he?" Harry said, his voice low and threatening.

"Somewhere plotting of a thousand different ways to kill you."

Another punch. This time, Harry hit him in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Where?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you enjoying this yet, Potter?" Rowle taunted between breaths.

"Not yet. But I'm getting there." Harry growled.

For nearly an hour, he beat on Rowle. When he was done, the man was hardly recognizable, his face bloodied and broken.

Harry himself was a mess as well. His fists were bloody, some of it his and some Rowle's. He was drenched with sweat and blood, wiped from his hands, covered his forehead and the front of his scalp.

"Another round?" Rowle asked, his jaw broken but still taunting him.

"No." Harry said shortly. "Not today."

Suddenly, an alarm went off. Harry had set up wards to alert him if anyone attempted to open the front door. Unfortunately, that wasn't the alarm that went off.

It was the alarm that alerted him that someone was trying to enter the cell block. This meant that whoever was inside had already removed the wards from the front door.

They were coming.

"Looks like I'm getting out of here." Rowle laughed, choking on his own blood.

"Over my dead body."

"I believe that's the idea."

Wand in hand, Harry stepped out into the hallway where he leveled his wand at the intruder: Hermione Granger.

If Harry had been expecting anyone, Hermione would have been his last guess.

"Why are you here?"

"I followed you from the Ministry."

"Why?"

"You've been disappearing every few days for the last month. Every time I ask you where you're going, you say you're going to go interrogate Rowle. But you don't go to Azkaban and you don't stay in the Ministry."

"This is a Ministry black site." Harry explained. "We can keep high value targets here off the books.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

Harry chose not to answer that question.

"I need you to leave."

"Oh my god." Hermione whispered, ignoring Harry as she stared at the blood covering him.

"Oh, that's not mine." Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's his." Harry said, pointing to the cell where Rowle sat. Slowly, Hermione stepped forward, looking inside the cell.

When she saw what was left of Rowle's face, she vomited on the floor. Once she was done, and had cleaned up, she looked at Harry, staring at his with an expression he had never seen before from her: rage.

"Is that Rowle?"

"Yes."

"This is where you've been keeping him?"

"Obviously."

"Have you been torturing him?"

"That depends on your definition."

"What have you been doing?"

"Isolation and sleep deprivation."

"That's torture!"

"I would have wiped it from his memory once I had gotten what I needed."

"That's supposed to make me feel better!?"

"We need Dolohov, Hermione." Harry rationalized. "He is the closest person we know to him. If we cut Dolohov out of the picture, the other two sides become easier to focus on."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this come out of your mouth."

"It's a necessary evil, Hermione."

"For the greater good, right?"

"Yes!"

Hermione covered her mouth in horror as she heard Harry agree with her statement. It took Harry a couple seconds to catch her meaning.

The greater good.

Words belonging to Gellert Grindelwald.

"Hermione."

"I won't be a part of this."

"Hermione."

"You can tell the rest of the team or not but I can't do this."

"Hermione." Harry said, stepping towards her.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Hermione shrieked. "I don't even know you anymore, Harry."

"Let me explain."

"No." Hermione said simply before turning and leaving. For several minutes, Harry stood alone in the hallway. Suddenly, he realized that there was a noise that he been ignoring. Turning, he looked at Rowle.

Rowle, who could barely move and was barely recognizable under the layers of blood and gore, was laughing.

Like the maniac he was, Rowle simply sat laughing in hysterics at the pathetic man in front of him.

For a second, Harry considered retaliating. But he knew it wouldn't do any good. So, Harry did the only thing he knew would work.

He shut the door.

"Rot in hell." Harry muttered as he turned and walked away.


	17. Chapter 17

For two weeks, Harry and the rest of the team worked without Hermione. No explanation was ever given for her departure. The rest of the team silently wondered what had happened but no one dared bring up the topic to Harry.

They all recognized that Harry was in trouble. He was working night and day and when he wasn't working, he had returned to drinking at night. More than once, he had shown up for a task force meeting clearly hungover.

He hadn't been drunk but they all tacitly agreed that something needed to be done.

So, unbeknownst to Harry, Neville had gone to Hermione. Not surprisingly, she had refused to divulge just what it was that Harry had done to enrage her so but she was at least willing to listen.

She still cared about Harry, that much was obvious.

Neville was able to convince Hermione that she needed to meet with Harry to discuss what had happened. Even if they didn't end up walking away happy, Harry would be better if he at least had a chance to explain himself.

By some miracle, Hermione had agreed.

Neville had told her that she would get Harry to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron at noon the next day. Harry was likely to have been upset at Neville for interfering but if he got the chance to prove himself to her again, he would get over it.

Silently, Hermione had agreed. After two weeks, she realized that she at least had to hear Harry's side. More than likely, she would still feel betrayed by his actions but she had to hear him.

She knew it was irrational. She knew she shouldn't. She knew that what she had seen wasn't something that she should forgive or associate herself with.

But this was Harry and things weren't always rational when it came to Harry Potter.

So, at noon, Hermione had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, ready to hear Harry's side of the story.

At one, she was still waiting. Deciding she was done waiting, Hermione paid Tom and went to Apparate back to the Ministry when a thought entered her mind.

Instead of returning to work, Hermione instead snuck into a back alley, Disillusioned herself and then Apparated, landing in the main entrance of Grimmauld Place. Almost instantly, Hermione could feel that things were off inside the Ancient House of Black. Silently, Hermione moved about the house, searching for Harry.

If Harry was the way that Neville had described, then he was likely to be either passed out or hallucinating. To be honest, Hermione wasn't sure which one she would rather it be.

Finally, as she climbed to the top floor, she could hear his voice coming from the master bedroom, a room that Harry very rarely entered.

"...what I did was wrong...No, I know it's wrong...Sometimes the wrong thing is the right thing if it protects people...No, I know...You're right, of course...I've lost her...She'll never accept me again...How? She's seen what I am! I'm a monster!...I hurt people. It's just what I do, Mum."

The second the last word came out of his mouth, she knew this was bad. Even during the darkest year of Harry's life, he rarely imagined his mother. His father appeared on a fairly regular basis but his mother only appeared on a handful of occasions when Harry was feeling lowest.

Sneaking towards the door, Hermione peaked in to see Harry facing the window, staring outside.

"I know I was supposed to go meet her!" Harry raged to himself. "But how was I supposed to explain to her?...No, no one would understand...I may have had good intentions but it doesn't matter...nothing matters anymore."

With that, Hermione watched as Harry downed the remainder of his half-full bottle before throwing it against the wall and conjuring another.

"No, Mum, I won't recover...This is where I draw the line...She's different, Mum. You know it, I know it. I can do anything when she's with me but if she's not...This isn't Ron, Mum...Mum, I could get over him deciding to leave me but her?...Why would I want to have a real life without her?"

Finally, Harry collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Hermione was torn. On one hand, what Harry had done was reprehensible. On the other, he obviously felt guilty about what he had done.

But the question was did he feel guilty because he had done it or did he feel guilty because it had meant losing her?

Suddenly, Hermione's foot slipped off the stair, landing hard on the one below. At moment her foot hit the stair, Harry's eyes snapped to the door where he was able to see Hermione through the crack in the door.

The same moment the pain in her foot caused her magic to fail and her form to be revealed.

"No." Harry whispered softly before racing across the room through the open window.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed before scrambling to catch up with him. As she got to the window, she looked up to see Harry reaching the top of the ladder leading to the roof. Fearing for the worst, Hermione decided to skip the ladder and simply levitated herself to the top.

Once she got there, she witnessed Harry collapse at the edge of the roof.

"That can't be her." he muttered to himself. "It can't be...No, I know I've never seen her before...Dad, stop interrupting Mum...I can't hear you, Mum...Dumbledore, please I can't hear her...would all of you...STOP IT!...I CAN'T HEAR HER!"

It was horrifying to watch Harry literally direct these statements to different points of empty air. Obviously, he was seeing multiple people. She wouldn't even hazard a guess as to how many.

And at the moment, it wasn't important.

Instead, Hermione jumped forward, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her.

"Harry." Hermione said simply.

"Hermione?" Harry said, a genuine smile crossing his face.

"Yes."

For a moment, Harry seemed to be at peace. Then, a look of horror crossed his face before he collapsed, his head hitting the ground as he screamed.

"No! No! Not her! Anyone but her!" Harry said, tears streaming from his eyes as he raised his head, staring at her. "Please don't be dead."

"Harry, I'm-"

"Someone help! She can't be dead. I'll do anything. Please don't be dead. Please. Pleasepleaseplease."

Finally, Hermione realized that Harry couldn't be helped in this state. So, she drew her wand, aimed at Harry and Stunned him.

Harry awoke just as the sun began to creep over the buildings in London. Looking around in confusion, he saw that he was in his room, a place he didn't remember being before he had fallen asleep.

In fact, he didn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he had remembered was finishing up his meeting with Oliver before sitting down in his chair for a drink.

Looking down at the end of the bed, he saw Hermione sitting in that very chair, sleeping on her hand.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. His voice felt tired.

Instantly, Hermione snapped awake as if she had been on guard duty. When she saw that he was awake, she moved from the chair to a spot sitting next to him.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Think about it."

As if protected by that password, all of Harry's memories of earlier that evening came flooding back to him.

Seeing his mother.

Seeing Hermione.

He had been so certain that she was dead. He thought he was going to die.

"You told me you were getting better." Hermione said, a tone of accusation in his voice.

Then, Harry remembered that Hermione wasn't talking to him anymore. Almost as if hit with a spell, Harry could feel himself retreating. He wouldn't dare get his hopes up.

"I'll be fine."

"Harry, that is anything but fine."

"If so, that's my concern." Harry said monotonously.

"I'm not supposed to worry about you?"

"Hermione, you were very clear on what you thought of me."

"That doesn't keep me from worrying, Harry." Hermione said softly. "In fact, I think I worry more now. The Harry Potter that I knew would never have done those things."

"I think you're wrong, Hermione."

"Well, I don't. I don't understand. You talked about being afraid of becoming a monster. But then you just let yourself become one."

"I didn't let myself. I chose it."

"What? Why?"

"Because if I had to chose between losing you and becoming a monster, I will become that monster every time."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I saw you get hit with that spell in Diagon Alley. I thought you were dead. For a few moments, I was nothing but rage, a machine. But when that moment was over, I still thought you were dead. It did nothing to help me or you. But I knew that Rowle had information that we needed. So, I could have played good cop and just accepted that he wasn't going to talk and risk putting you in danger again."

"Or?"

"I played bad cop. I did what I thought I had to do to get the information that I needed to keep you safe."

"I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself safe."

"I know." Harry admitted. "But I don't have much of a family, Hermione, and I would do anything to protect those people that I love."

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, you had to know that I wouldn't have approved."

"Of course I knew. Why do you think I did it at a well warded black site?" Harry said softly. "I knew the whole time that what I was doing was wrong. Every time that I went there, I had to become someone else because each time that I went there, I was closer and closer to simply turning him back over to the Ministry."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I let it get personal. Each time I thought about doing that, I saw you dying in the middle of Diagon Alley. I needed the satisfaction of knowing that he broke."

"Did you ever get it?"

"No."

"Did you get the information that we needed?"

"No."

"Did you devote an unnecessary amount of time attempting to get information out of him that could otherwise have been used in a more productive manner?"

"Yes." Harry admitted before continuing on. "Hermione, I'm still not alright. I thought I was doing better but I find myself consumed with a need for vengeance. After I thrashed Rowle in Diagon Alley, Kingsley warned me not to give in to vengeance. I didn't listen. Instead, I was blinded by the deaths that I still feel responsible for."

For a second, Hermione simply stared at him. Then, she sat up straighter and spoke gently.

"Harry, I'm going to ask you to do something." Hermione said, placing a hand on his. "Actually, I'm going to ask you to do several things. I need you to agree to all of them. If you don't, I will absolutely walk out, report you to the Ministry for your behavior while on the job and leave you here on your own."

"OK." Harry said.

"First, I need you to give up drinking." Hermione said softly. "Not one glass, not one sip. For the time being, you give it power over you and that's not acceptable. You are stronger than that. I know you are but you don't seem to believe it. Can you do that for me?"

"I can try."

"Not an acceptable answer." Hermione snapped. "Yes or no."

"Yes." Harry replied softly.

"Good. Secondly, I need you to move out of Grimmauld Place and into my apartment."

"What?"

"Harry, this place does nothing for you but remind you of dead friends and family. We need you in a place where you feel safe."

"OK, I can see that." Harry admitted. "What else?"

"I need you to revoke yourself from any future field missions for the time being."

"What? Absolutely not!" Harry shouted, sitting up to match Hermione's height. "My skill with a wand is the whole reason this task force exists. If I'm not out there, we don't stand a chance against Rookwood, let alone Lestrange or Dolohov."

"You are not safe out there right now, Harry." Hermione countered. "You asked me to be on this team and yet you aren't treating me like a team member out there. You're too worried about me to get anything accomplished. You probably could have taken down Rowle yourself if you hadn't been so worried about making sure he wasn't able to attack me."

As much as he hated to admit it, that much was definitely true. He had been actively shooting down shots fired at Hermione as well as defend himself. He's just as lucky that he didn't take a blast to the chest as she was lucky to have actually gotten hit.

"Hermione, what good am I if I can't go out there?"

"You still know these Death Eaters in and out. You're still the best at putting us in a position to be successful. This is not permanent, Harry. We just need to get you get back on your feet."

"Fine." Harry admitted begrudgingly. He wasn't happy but if this meant that she would return to him, he was ready to do anything.

"Finally, you need to close down that black site."

"I already have."

"Really?"

"The day after you were there. Rowle has been at the Ministry for nearly two weeks now. He hasn't given them anything either."

"Why did you close it down?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

A pointed look from Hermione was all Harry needed to continue.

"You got to me, Hermione. You've always gotten to me. The only time I had a spectacularly bad idea and you didn't get to me was the Department of Mysteries fiasco. We all know how that turned out."

"Harry..."

"Don't." Harry said softly. "I won't lie to you. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was wrong on some many levels. But I was so tired of being behind the curve. So, I tried to take a shortcut."

"What did you learn?"

"Are you serious?" Harry chuckled. "Did you just ask me that?"

"We learn from everything." Hermione countered. "Sometimes we learn things about the world or about ourselves or others. So, what did you learn?"

"I learned that I think I would rather watch you die than you look at me the way you did that day."

"What?"

"When you got hit in Diagon Alley, I felt as if I had lost everything. I thought I was going to watch you die. I thought that it was possible that my world might end right then and there. But you got up and kept moving. But, at the black site, you got up and walked away and you did it without me. You were disgusted by what you saw. I've seen you look at Malfoy that way before, or Ron, or Umbridge but never once had you looked that way at me."

Stopping briefly, Harry looked up at Hermione earnestly.

"I would rather watch you die than see you look at me that way again. You want to know what I've learned? I learned that your opinion of me means more than anything. I honestly couldn't care how the rest of the world views me. But if you look at me like that again? I think I would rather die."

"Harry, I understand that you and I are very close but I shouldn't be the only person in your world."

Before Harry could stop himself, his mouth opened.

"You misunderstand. You're not the only person in my world. You are my world."

For a brief moment, Harry wished that his wandless magic was as good as his regular magic so that he could simply make himself invisible.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know what I meant by that."

"I have a pretty good idea." Hermione replied.

"Just forget I said anything." Harry said as he rolled to the other side of the bed and stood up.

"Forget you said anything!? Just how in the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"It's easy." Harry smirked as he dressed himself. "You just pretend to ignore it."

As Harry finished putting his shirt on, Harry felt his body whipped around and his eyes found a very irate Hermione Granger in front of him.

"Did you mean that?"

"Did I mean what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Potter."

"Trust me, it's not playing."

Suddenly, Harry felt a hand in the center of his chest and he was pressed against the wall. Knowing that there was no way out of this, Harry decided that playing Hermione's game was definitely the way to go.

"Did you mean that?" she asked, although this time the question sounded much more like a demand.

"Of course I meant it!" Harry replied, face to face with her.

"What?"

"Of course I meant it." Harry repeated softly. "You heard me last night and you've heard me today. What more is there for me to say?"

"Harry...I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say." Harry said, pushing Hermione away. "You don't feel the same way and-"

"How dare you accuse me of that?"

"Accuse you of what?"

"Not feeling the same way!"

"Well, do you?"

"I don't know!" Hermione shouted before collapsing on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, Hermione continued to speak. "This version of you: definitely not. Battle of Hogwarts you? Definitely. You remember what I said to you before you went to face him."

I'll go with you.

"Of course I do." Harry softly, leaning against the wall. "I couldn't believe that you would say that."

"Why not?" Hermione said, looking up at him.

"You had Ron. You two were finally doing what you had wanted to for years. Instead, you were volunteering to go with me."

"Me wanting to go with you had nothing to do with Ron. I could have married Ron and still probably been closer to you. You have, and always will, be my closest friend."

"Hermione..."

"Don't you dare." Hermione snapped. "You've been saying the same thing to me in some form or another for a year now. But the second that I admit to the same thing, I'm not allowed? Who are you decide that? What gives you the right to decide how I should or shouldn't feel?"

"I wasn't going to say that."

"Oh." Hermione replied sheepishly. "Then what were you going to say?"

"I was going to say that I was flattered." Harry admitted. "I'm not sure that I had the strength to march into the forest. But when you said that, it meant so much, more than I can explain. It gave me the courage to keep moving."

Suddenly, Harry's alarm clock went off, breaking the moment between the two of them. Harry and Hermione both knew what they were edging toward, a conversation they had both probably avoided for years.

So, Harry cursed his alarm clock into hundreds of pieces in response.

"Are we moving our meetings?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Hermione replied. "I'll ward everyone into my apartment."

"Are you sure? I'm sure there's another place we can find."

"Not somewhere safe."

"Or neutral."

"Also true."

For the next thirty minutes, Harry packed the entirety of his personal belongings while simultaneously alerting the rest of the task force to the change in their venue. Once Harry finished squeezing his Firebolt into his bag, he grabbed his bags, said a quick goodbye to his home and then turned in place.

In less than a second, Harry was transported from his bedroom to the living room of Hermione's apartment. He had only been there once before just a few days before Hermione had discovered him at Rowle's cell.

It was small and neatly decorated, nothing out of place. Due to its placement in a Muggle neighborhood, Hermione was smart not to have too many magical items laying out. So with the exception of the day's copy of the Daily Prophet and a first edition copy of Hogwarts, A History, there was nothing that would have indicated that one of the world's most talented witches lived there.

Which of course irritated Draco Malfoy to no end as he and the rest of the team arrived right on time.

"What are we doing in this Muggle hellhole?"

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy." Hermione shot back. "A single wave of my wand and your permission to enter the wards is withdrawn."

"I'm shaking in my dragonskin boats."

"You should be." Harry replied. "She helped do the wards around Grimmauld Place and they are nasty."

"Harry." Hermione interrupted, motioning for him to start the meeting.

"Right." Harry said bashfully. "First thing is first: Hermione has agreed to return to the team. There were some stipulations to her return, most of which don't affect you. However, the one that does is that I will no longer be going on any field missions."

As Harry expected, this did not go over well, even with Malfoy. Nevertheless, Harry waited out the protests before speaking again.

"I think we can all agree that my behavior recently hasn't been wonderful." Harry said, fighting his way to a smile. "I need to be in better control of my actions. I'm done drinking and I'm staying here for the foreseeable future. This does not mean that I am no longer in charge of this team. It simply means that I need to do a better job of planning since I won't be in the field to execute the actions."

"Who will take over field command?" Wood asked.

"It depends on the mission. For future intelligence gathering missions, Hermione will lead. For any combat intensive missions, Proudfoot will be given command. Both will report to me for any changes in mission directives."

Looking around, Harry saw the rest of the room nodding softly. They didn't look particularly happy but they didn't have all of the information, information that Harry didn't feel comfortable sharing with the team right now.

"Now, we've got that taken care of." Harry said softly. "To business, since Rowle has been a bust, we're no closer to Dolohov. Anything on Rookwood?"

"Nothing more than we knew last week." Neville said with a look of dejection. "We're pretty sure Yaxley is working with him from within Azkaban."

"Still think that Goyle is their messenger?"

"He has visited his father three times a month for the last year." Proudfoot replied. "It's been consistent. From our sources among the guards, Goyle passes his father a gift, they talk for about ten minutes and then he leaves."

"And they check the gift?"

"Sometimes. They've also allowed him to get by without checking it."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"They're encouraging him to get sloppy with whatever it is." Harry reasoned. "I don't like it but if we think it may lead somewhere, tell the guards to stop checking the gifts."

"Understood."

"What about Rodolphus?" Harry asked Wood.

"Well, we think it is official that the brothers have separated. Of the Muggle attacks that we can attribute to Lestrange, no one has been able to identify his younger brother."

"Then he might just not be there." Harry thought aloud.

"Rabastian was Rodolphus's lead enforcer. If Rabastian isn't in the field, then he isn't with him."

"Where would he have gone?" Harry asked.

"Dolohov and Rabastian were close. Dolohov may be willing to use him as more of an adviser that his Rabastian's brother was." Malfoy said surely. "Have we ever considered that if we give these guys enough time, they will just tear each other apart?"

"Sure." Hermione answered instantly. "But how long will that take and how many people will get in the way? As nice as that would be, we certainly can't trust them to do it without taking innocent people with them."

As had been the case ever since the beginning, they had nothing. However, rather than succumb to frustration, Harry stood, his brain pumping.

"Malfoy, what does Dolohov get by being in charge?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why would Dolohov seek leadership in Voldemort's power vacuum?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. Dolohov seemed content to be Voldemort's enforcer. He was one of the few Death Eaters that I don't remember fighting for favor with the Dark Lord. He simply wanted to work for Him.

"He's similar to Voldemort himself in that way." Wood said firmly. "Dolohov isn't concerned with blood status or money. He wants power. It was why he was such an effective assassin. He views his natural ability as power and is always seeking more. Just like Voldemort, he will continue to rally along blood lines because he knows that it will grant him followers."

This was what they already knew. However, Harry had a thought, an angle that they hadn't considered exploring.

"Just how pureblood is Dolohov?"

"As far as I know, 100%" Malfoy answered. "Why?"

"There's no one? Not even a half-blood uncle?"

"I don't know his family history but with him being on the run, all of his family's information would be public record." Hermione replied. "We could always do the research. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we take the cause out from underneath him. If we can prove that he's a fake, that he isn't a pureblood, he may lose some of his support."

"But aren't we just legitimizing his cause?" Neville asked.

"All we're doing is highlighting his hypocrisy. It's what we should have been doing to Voldemort but no one would expose him. Now, we have the platform and the target."

"But this isn't Voldemort, Harry." Hermione countered. "Dolohov is going to be Pureblood back for generations. We may get a half-blood distant relative but that's really the best we can hope for."

"We can't know until we go look." Harry admitted. "Malfoy, Hermione: I want each of you to pull part of Dolohov's records separately. Look through them. Get me something that can pull the rug out from under him."

"What are we doing?" Wood asked.

"I want you and Proudfoot to work on getting Rookwood into secure custody. Fake a death threat if you have to. I want him isolated."

"Harry." Hermione said, a tone of warning in her normally relaxed voice.

"I just want him in a position where Yaxley can't get him any more messages." Harry explained. "We can work on cutting off the head of that particular dragon."

"What about Lestrange?"

"Neville, I haven't put you on the Lestranges for a reason. Do you think you can handle this?"

"I can."

"Do you think you can do it without turning into me?"

"I will do it the right way, Harry." Neville confirmed.

"Good. Get the younger brother into custody. Find him and bring him in. If he's really turned on his brother, then we can certainly use that to our advantage."

For the first time in weeks, Harry felt engaged. It was as if they were finally moving somewhere.

"We're done taking these guys at their own game. We need to turn the table. That may mean playing a little dirty. It may mean being ruthless but I know that we can do this the right way."

With a wave of his hand, Harry dismissed the team. Almost instantly, the room was cleared of everyone but Harry and Hermione. For a few seconds, Harry stood staring out the large window in Hermione's living room, simply observing the buzzing world of the city outside.

Eventually, he felt a hand on the small of his back and then a head on his shoulder.

"I'm proud of you."

"For what?"

"You're taking this in stride. You could have let these restrictions hinder you but you aren't."

"I feel clearer with you around." Harry said softly.

"I didn't do much of anything."

"You don't need to."

As Hermione looked through the glass, Hermione couldn't believe that the man before her was the same one she had seen only a few days earlier, covered in blood and mangled beyond recognition. Yet, there he was.

Thorfinn Rowle: their key to Antonin Dolohov.

Harry had failed at getting any information from him. Hermione had understood Harry's desperation. Dolohov was, by far, the most dangerous of the three Death Eater captains. If he was stopped, the other two groups would be much easier to round up.

So, while she may have found Harry's methods deplorable, she definitely understood his need to get the information out of him.

It was why she was there.

"You had better be sure about this." Kingsley said softly.

"I am." Hermione replied, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "As much as he's been defiant, he has to know that he is backed into a corner."

"Doesn't that make him more dangerous?"

"It just makes him more reckless." Hermione countered. "That's something we can use."

With that, Hermione opened the door into the interrogation room. Instantly, Rowle perked up at her presence.

"Didn't I put you down?"

"You tried." Hermione smirked before sitting down. "You're not the first, you won't be the last."

"I was close though, right?"

"Dolohov got closer."

The mention of his friend had a sobering effect on the Death Eater in front of her. Suddenly, the cocky demeanor disappeared replaced by something feral and defensive.

"If you think I'm giving him up, you've got another thing coming, Granger."

"I know you're going to give him up." Hermione said calmly.

"Bullshit." Rowle growled, fighting the restraints that kept him pinned to his chair. "Nothing would make me give him up?"

"Nothing?" Hermione asked with a feigned innocence. "Not even this?"

With a wave of her wand, two files appeared in front of her. On one was the name THORFINN ROWLE in bright red letter with his face underneath it.

On the other was the name ALEXANDER ROBINSON.

Also with his face underneath it.

"What is this?"

"This," Hermione said, indicating the file with his name on it. "is everything the Ministry has on you. Birth records, school records, arrest records. Known relatives, associates, friends, enemies. It is Thorfinn Rowle in a nutshell."

In a single motion, Hermione pointed to the other folder.

"This is a new identity usable anywhere in the world, other than Europe. An entirely new identity. You could reappear almost anywhere in the world and be anything."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"I've seen your school records, Thorfinn." Hermione said earnestly. "You were a rather remarkable student given your friends. While they were busy failing and retaking classes, you were collecting seven OWLs and taking your NEWTS to become a Hit Wizard. Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. You could have been anything but you could have been particularly useful to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

She could see that he was attempting to resist the urge to feel proud of him, as if recognizing his past accomplishments would lessen his reputations as a Death Eater.

"But, I also saw your rather long list of behavioral issues while you were at school. Forty-four detentions your seventh year? When I cross-referenced your individual records with the incident reports that are made for each detention, I discovered that almost all of them mentioned Antonin Dolohov."

"What's your point, Mudblood?"

"I'll forgive that once." Hermione said, a rather iciness to her voice. "Say it again and I walk out."

It was a challenge. If Rowle was really as dedicated to his cause as he said he was, he would use again simply to prove it.

However, Hermione believed that Rowle wasn't a Death Eater because of the cause. After all, he was Dolohov's friend. If Dolohov wasn't really a Pureblood supremacist, why would his best "friend" be?

So, when Rowle said nothing, Hermione took it as a small victory and continued.

"To answer your question, my point is that while you served forty-four detentions for your behavior, Dolohov served nine. None of those incidents had anything to do with you. So, when you were around, you seemed to serve the time. The only time that Dolohov got caught doing anything was when you weren't there to save him."

"We're Purebloods. We stick together."

"If that's true, then why didn't Antonin ever stick his neck out for you? You obviously took the fall for him on a number of occasions. Why didn't he return the favor?"

Rowle appeared speechless. Hermione could tell that he was trying to process a number of responses but none of them seemed to be coming out.

"The answer is that Dolohov is not your friend, Thorfinn."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do." Hermione assured him. "I have wonderful friends. My friends do amazing things for me. Sometimes, they do terrible things for me."

"Like torture a prisoner?" Rowle growled.

"Like torture a prisoner." Hermione conceded. "The point being that my friends take risks for me, just like I do the same for them."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know that Dolohov has made not a single attempt to discover where you're being held."

"How could you know that?"

"Because Dolohov hasn't made a single move in the last month." Hermione reasoned. "No attempts on the Ministry or Azkaban. We know that Montague has taken up arms with Dolohov. Montague was a former Auror. He knows a list of five or six sites that the Ministry hold high value targets. Sure, we've changed them since he's been here but he could have at least checked them. Do you know what we found when we double checked those sites?"

"I bet you'll tell me." Rowle responded, a bored look on his face.

"Nothing. No one had been to any of them. No sign of magic since we left those sites after the war. Thorfinn, he's not looking for you."

"I can't believe that." Rowle replied, although the look on his face betrayed his real emotions. "He's been my best friend since the beginning."

"That may be true. But don't think for a minute that you were his, Thorfinn."

The dam was breaking. Rowle's silence was the largest indicator that he was strongly considering whatever it was that Hermione was offering. The evidence was mounting against Dolohov and Hermione knew that, at this point, it was just a matter of time.

Finally, after an entire minute of silence between the two of them, Rowle looked up. There was a despair in his eyes that Hermione hardly believed. In fact, if she wasn't keenly aware of the tragedies that the man in front of her had perpetrated, she may have felt sorry for him.

"What do I have to do?" he said, an air of defeat in his voice.

"You tell me everything you know on Dolohov and his operation." Hermione said softly. "Once you're done, I burn your original file. We release a story that you were killed on your way to Azkaban. You tell us where you want to go and we will set you up with a year's worth of living expenses and a place to live. Once you are there, we'll keep an eye on your for that first year."

"After that?"

"After that, we will conveniently forget your original identity. We'll stop watching you and as long as you don't come back to Europe, we won't have any reason to watch you. However, be aware that if you choose to start some sort of Pureblood rebellion wherever you go, we will not standby idly. We'll know if it's you."

"So you'll still be watching?"

"We have ways of knowing without keeping a direct eye on you." Hermione said cryptically.

"Fair enough."

"So, Mr. Rowle, do we have a deal?"

This was it. Hermione had cashed in a lot of favors to even get this deal on the table in front of her. If it failed, Hermione would be waiting a very long time before she would be able to ask anything of anyone. While it wouldn't be publicly damaging to her career, internally it would be a fiasco.

Everything rode on the next sentence out of the mouth of Thorfinn Rowle, mass murdering Death Eater.

Slowly, Rowle breathed in, stalling for a moment before exhaling and resting his face in his hands.

Time seemed to stop as he simply waited, saying nothing.

Finally, he raised his head and with a sad grin, gave his answer.

"What would you like to know, Miss Granger?"


	18. Chapter 18

Since moving in with Hermione, Harry's new favorite place was a chair that faced the large bay window in her living room. Now, he could read and see all of London from a single location.

It was from that seat that Harry did most of his research. He had taken the files that Malfoy and Hermione had gotten on Dolohov and made copies. For the last week, it had been the center of Harry's attention. He spent nearly ten hours a day combing those files, looking for something or someone they could use against Dolohov.

So far, the best thing Harry had found was a distant relation from Slovenia who had given up their magical life to live with their Muggle wife. As far as Harry could tell, Dolohov hadn't ever personally communicated with him and they hadn't seen each other in years.

Needless to say, it was not much to go on.

"Harry."

"Yes?" Harry said as he looked up from the files in front of him.

"Is that Pig?"

Sure enough, flying towards the window was Ron's pet owl, Pigwidgeon.

"It is." Harry confirmed as he walked to the window. Once Pig landed, Harry took the letter from its talons. Pig gave Harry a hearty hoot and a friendly peck before taking off again.

"What's it say?" Hermione asked.

"Give me a moment." Harry replied as he opened the letter to see Ron's familiarly untidy scrawl.

Harry,

Ginny's home. Please come to the Burrow. Bring Hermione.

Ron.

It was among the last things that Harry had expected. He passed the letter to Hermione as he collapsed in his chair. Hermione took a second to read it before kneeling down on the floor next to him.

"We have to go."

"I know." Harry agreed. "George will be there."

"I know." Hermione said, putting her hand on his. "But it's Ginny. Something is obviously wrong, Harry. This letter is brief, even by Ron's standards. There's obviously something he's not telling us."

"Yeah." Harry said softly before turning back to Hermione. "How soon can you leave?"

"We can go now."

"Good."

Standing up, Harry took Hermione's hand and turned on the spot. Just a moment later, the pair of them opened their eyes to see a place neither of them had been to since just after The Battle of Hogwarts.

The Burrow.

For the longest time, this had been Harry's home away from Hogwarts. But with the rift between him and George and the tension between Ron and Hermione, it made it hard to see this place, a place with so many great memories for him, and know that he was barely welcome.

As Harry and Hermione made their way to the door, it burst open and an aging red-headed woman came flying out of it, engulfing Harry and Hermione in a body bind-like hug.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Harry grunted as the air was knocked out of him.

"Oh, we have missed you!" she said, obviously chocking back tears as she released the pair of them. "Everyone's inside."

"Everyone?" Harry asked, the meaning to his question clear.

"Everyone." Molly confirmed. "We had all of the family here. But Ron wouldn't tell us what happened unless the two of you were here."

That news stopped Harry in his tracks. Things had been rough between Ron and Harry over the last year. With Ron's relationship with Hermione's dying a spectacular death and Harry breaking Ron's jaw, things were not particularly great between the "Golden Trio."

But Ron obviously still considered them family. It was a touching reminder of all that they had gone through together.

Looking at Hermione, Harry could tell that she was feeling the same way. Gripping her hand tightly, Harry led Hermione as he followed Molly into the front room for the Burrow where the entire Weasley clan was waiting.

Tentatively, Harry and Hermione walked in, not knowing the kind of reception that they would get.

As Harry walked in, he took inventory of the room.

Bill and a very pregnant Fleur.

Charlie and a girlfriend or wife that he had never met.

Percy and Penelope Clearwater, obviously further along in their relationship than either Harry or Hermione had thought.

Molly and Arthur, who both looked upon them with loving expressions.

Ron stood in front of the fireplace next to them, getting ready to hold court. He smiled softly before coming over to the pair of them and hugging them simultaneously.

"Thanks for coming." he whispered to the pair of them.

"Weasleys are family, remember?" Harry replied, tears forming in his eyes. He had no idea how much he had missed this. Seeing everyone, even if it was for a poor reason, reminded him just what this family had meant to him.

They were his first friends, the ones who had taken him in and given him a home. It was amazing considering they could barely afford to take care of their own and yet, they had welcomed him and Hermione with open arms.

Finally, Ron broke away, holding the pair of them at arm's length.

"Potters and Grangers are family too." Ron replied warmly.

It was just then that Harry noticed the final person in the room, the person he had avoided making eye contact with until this very moment.

"Harry." George said evenly.

For a few seconds, Harry had to fight the urge to run. He didn't blame George for his problems. Those were his and he had to own them. However, George's tirade at Fred's funeral had been one of the final pushes he had needed before taking a dive off the deep end.

Just seeing George made him want a drink. But, rather than give in to that particular weakness, Harry buckled down and stepped forward. As he approached George, all Harry could think was that he hoped he looked braver than he felt.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened his mouth to begin a speech that he had practiced for the better part of a year.

"George, I don't know what-"

Unfortunately, Harry's speech was interrupted when George stood, towering over Harry by at least a head. It was in this moment that Harry remembered just the kind of figure Fred and George had.

They were Beaters after all.

For a moment, Harry fought the urge to run again. If George was going to hit him, then let it be and get it out of his system.

Instead, George simply extended a hand in front of him. Bewildered, Harry took George's hand firmly. The look on George's face was among the most cryptic Harry had ever seen.

However, since George hadn't punched him in the face yet, Harry was willing to consider this progress.

"George, I-"

"We'll talk later." George replied evenly, the smallest of smiles appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"But-"

"We've waited a year to have this conversation. We can wait a little longer. There are more pressing things to discuss."

"And with that," Ron interrupted. "can everyone take a seat?"

Following Ron's lead, Harry and Hermione took a seat on the couch next to George, the last place Harry would have thought to sit five minutes earlier. As they sat, Hermione placed a supportive hand on Harry's. Harry knew that she could tell how discombobulated he was and her silent support meant everything in that moment.

"So, I found Ginny." Ron started softly as he paced. "We all know that she was supposed to attend a match and didn't. She was missing for ten days. I got down there on day three. For a week, we searched high and low. The unfortunate part about Ginny's life was that she didn't have many friends. She didn't speak Spanish and was a relatively new player to the league."

Finally, Ron conjured a chair and sat. He looked tired as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Considering he had left for South America more than a month ago, he wasn't surprised.

"I told you all when I found her." Ron said, indicating his blood relatives. "That was about three weeks ago now. I ended up finding her, with the help of the authorities, outside of a Muggle bar. For a week, she hadn't been sober longer than a few hours. She had been arrested by both magical and Muggle law enforcement at least twice in that time for her behavior."

"So why didn't they know where she was?" Arthur asked.

Rubbing his eyes in frustration, Ron failed to suppress a chuckle as he answered.

"Because she kept breaking out before they could get her information." Ron said softly. "They had never seen someone so drunk with such good wand-work."

"Of course." Arthur replied with an expression that couldn't find a place between frustration and admiration.

"Anyway, I made the decision that she needed to stay and stick it out. She was only contracted for three more games. I made sure she went to practice every day and she didn't miss any of the games. I was ready to let her alone and come home until three nights ago."

"What happened?" Harry asked softly.

"Ginny wanted to go out with her teammates to celebrate the end of the season. I told her that I didn't think it was a good idea. So, she Stunned me and went out anyway. Thankfully, the Aurors were on the lookout for her and brought her back home before she could do too much damage."

"Did she agree to come home willingly?" Bill asked.

"Personally, I think that's what she wanted the whole time. She just wouldn't admit it." Ron answered. "She didn't have friends or family there and she wasn't in good shape when she left."

"That's my fault." Harry muttered.

Harry and Ginny had officially broken up the week before she had left for South America. They had gotten back together after The Battle of Hogwarts. For about six weeks, things were great. But then, Ginny had her first tryout with a British Quidditch club: Chudley Cannons.

Chudley was always awful so Ginny should have easily made the team. But, for whatever reason, she played the worst Quidditch of her life on that day. When Chudley turned her down, the rest of the League lost interest. A few teams that had already scheduled tryouts with her had even owled her to tell her that they were canceling her tryout.

Left with nothing else, Ginny started trying out for other worldwide leagues. However, she became easily irritable and fought with Harry constantly. Finally, she got a spot on a team in the Brazil-Argentina League, a newly formed developmental league.

It was one of the worst professional leagues in the world.

But it was all that she could get at that moment, so despite hating it, she took the contract. During the whole process, Harry had urged her to wait a year, tryout again the following year and stay in England.

Every time, Harry started that argument, it had ended with her accusing him of trying to hold her down.

Finally, about a month before the dedication of the Battle of Hogwarts Memorial, Harry had enough and locked her out of his apartment. It was a terrible way to end a relationship from a person who was on his own descent to hell.

Three weeks later, Ginny scored her first goal.

In the other team's goal.

"It's no one's fault." Ron countered. "It's the way it is. Things ended up being much different after the war than we thought they were going to be. Ultimately, the only person who is responsible for her behavior is Ginny. That being said, we do need to be here and support her."

Ron's eyes scanned the room before stopping on Harry.

"All of us." he said with a grin.

Nodding softly, Harry stood and moved towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm going to go talk to her."

"Is that such a good idea?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"If there's anyone that knows what she is going through, it's me." Harry reasoned. "I'm still going through this. I'm still having trouble. I just want her to know that she's not alone in this."

"I suppose."

"It's okay, Harry." Ron remarked. "She's in my room."

"Thanks." Harry said appreciatively. Then, like he had hundreds of times before, he climbed the stairs. Other than the stairs to the dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, Harry could think of no set of stairs that he had used more.

Yet, they felt unfamiliar now.

Before they had popped with the sounds of Fred and George's experiments, with the scratching of Percy's quill and with the distant humming of Molly Weasley as she busied her way around the house.

Now? It seemed empty, still as if something had been lost.

But something had been lost. For the Weasleys, a son or brother.

For Harry, one of his closest friends.

As Harry approached Ron's old room, he took a deep breath before knocking. When no one answered, Harry didn't know what to do. Deciding to take the full plunge, Harry slowly pressed his way through the door.

Sitting in the bay window was Ginny Weasley.

But it wasn't the Ginny Weasley that Harry remembered and certainly not the one that he had fallen in love with. Whereas before she had been strong and full of life, the person before him looked thin and frail. The bags under her eyes were even more pronounced than her brother's. Overall, it was a sad sight.

But, it terrified Harry just how much she reminded Harry of himself just a few months earlier. At his lowest, when he had considered leaving England and drinking out the rest of his days, he had felt much like she looked.

Thin. Frail. Weak.

Finally, Ginny turned and, for the briefest of moments, smiled at him before turning her eyes back to the window. Slowly, Harry stepped behind her, following her line of sight to the single tombstone just under the tree by the pond.

The final resting place of Fred Weasley.

"Hi, Gin." Harry whispered softly.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, her eyes never leaving the grave.

"To be honest, I'm not exactly sure."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not important."

"Harry, despite everything, what you think is always very important to me."

It was the first time that she had really looked at him, turning away from the memories of a tragic past. Harry swallowed and bravely pressed forward.

"Well, on my way up here, I knew that I was going to tell you to keep pressing forward. I would have told you that life will get better. I would have told you that I believe in you and I believe that you can right this ship."

"And what would you say now?" Ginny asked. Her voice lacked the edge it had before she had left. In years past, it had always been a competition between her mouth or her wand, in terms of which her enemies wanted to face least. Now, assuming her wand-work was the same, it was no contest. She lacked the same passion for life that she possessed. Even when Harry had fought with her, it was something about her that he had always appreciated.

It was the one thing the two of them had most in common.

"What would I say now?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Well, I would still say all of those things because they're still true."

"But?"

"But...I would tell you that won't take the pain away." Harry admitted. "There isn't a day goes by that I don't feel the hole deep inside me where my parents were or where Sirius was. It will never go away."

"Encouraging." Ginny replied deadpanned.

"I would also tell you that I don't want you to end up like me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that even though we ended up going different paths, we seem to have ended up at the same destination. I see you and I see myself. We don't see a future. Instead, all we can see is bodies we've left in our wake and the lives that we've lost."

"I suppose." Ginny said softly. "I'm just tired of feeling like my heart is being torn out."

"Then find something to do with yourself." Harry shot back. "I'm not great by any stretch of the imagination but I'm certainly better. I'm better because I feel useful. That was always when my life was best, when I felt like I was doing something. For you, I imagine it was when you felt free."

"Quidditch was the one thing that ever gave me that feeling." Ginny admitted. "Well, and the thought of marrying you, of course."

"I was never going to be the person that you thought I was." Harry countered. "There was still too much storybook left in your impression of me."

"You do realize that they are making children's storybooks out of you, right?"

"Oh, I'm aware."

Suddenly, Ginny stood and made her way across the room. It was the first time Harry had seen any kind of decisive action from her. For a few seconds, she simply paced the room. Eventually, she stopped and turned back to face Harry.

"Has the war ever really ended?"

"How do you mean?"

"I still feel like I'm fighting something." Ginny admitted. "Like something deep in me is burning and nothing I do can manage to put it out."

"Revenge."

"What?" Ginny asked softly.

"Revenge will put it out." Harry admitted sadly. "That burning, I felt something like it for years. For myself, it was subtle. I don't have memories of my parents living so it wasn't them that I was mourning. It was the loss of them in my life. The loss of years and years of memories that I never got to have. But unfortunately, you have those memories. So that fire burns brightly and for now, until your brother's killer is dead, it will burn."

"Rookwood."

"What?"

"Rookwood was the one who killed Fred." Ginny snarled. "He's in Azkaban."

"He is." Harry agreed, hoping that it would end that part of the conversation. Thankfully (and much to Harry's surprise), it did.

For a time, the pair of them simply stood in silence. Ginny was the one to break the silence.

"So why didn't we work out?"

The question came out from nowhere and caught Harry completely unaware. Nonplussed, he sat before stammering out an excuse.

"We fought too much." Harry said pathetically.

"Oh, come on. The war was over. We should have been happy. Being with you was the happiest time of my life. Yes, it was a bit of a dream come true, dating the Boy Who Lived. But I came to a point where I didn't love that version of you, Harry."

"Really? Why?"

"Because it didn't stand up to the real version of you." Ginny muttered before turning to Harry strongly. "The stories they came up with you had you as this wizarding hero but for no other reason than because you could. But the real you? You were a hero, not because you could, but because you chose to be. You chose to fight Quirrell, you chose to save me in the Chamber of Secrets. Year after year, when faced with the option to run or fight, you chose to fight every time."

"That doesn't make me a hero. It just made me the unfortunate bastard who was in the wrong place at the wrong time for seven years."

"Maybe." Ginny admitted. "But still, I admired you in a way that I never could have admired the storybook version."

"Well, that's nice I suppose." Harry replied awkwardly.

"Yeah. I guess life isn't quite the storybook you expect, is it? I mean, if it was, you should have had a parade, married a princess and lived happily ever after."

"Do they have wizarding fairy tales?" Harry asked.

"Everyone has fairy tales." Ginny answered evenly. "I would have been that princess."

"If life were a fairy tale, then yes, I suppose you would have been that princess."

"But princesses aren't busy burying their brother after the war in the fairy tales, are they?"

"The prince doesn't feel responsible for everything and sink into a Firewhiskey-driven depression either."

"So, that's where you went." Ginny mused. "Funny, you never told anyone other than Hermione or Ron where you went. I can't even remember the name of the place where you live."

"Adjusted Fidelius Charm will do that. I just needed space. Hell, I still need some space, not that Hermione is giving me any."

"Why didn't you tell me that you needed space? I would have given it to you."

"Because I didn't know that's what I needed, Gin. I didn't know anything." Harry said as he stood and returned to the window. "His death was just one of a few dozen that weigh on me each and every day. I couldn't handle it. Couldn't, I say that like I've dealt with it. I can't handle it."

Finally, Harry turned around and knelt in front of Ginny, taking his hands and placing them on hers.

"Ultimately, that's why we didn't work. Because we each have our own demons to work through. I need someone to help me before I could have even began to help you and the same works in reverse."

"I suppose you're right." Ginny replied sadly.

"I will always be there for you, Ginny. I hope you know that. Just like the rest of the Weasleys, you are still family."

"I know." Ginny looked away as she answered.

"You're disappointed?"

"Of course I'm disappointed." Ginny said evenly. "I don't want to be like the rest of my family. I want to be something special to you, something different."

"Oh Ginny, you always were special to me and you always will be. But I am not what you need."

Instantly, Ginny collapsed onto Harry, sobbing into his shoulder. Normally, Harry would have been concerned for her. However, these tears weren't for the death of their relationship.

They were the tears she never cried for her brother, finally come to light more than a year later.

For nearly ten minutes they remained like this until finally Ginny came up for air. As she did, she had only one question.

"It's Hermione, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"You said that I need to find someone to help me with my demons. I think that means that you found your person and if I had to guess anyone in the world, it would be Hermione."

For a few seconds, Harry tried to deny it but found that he didn't have it in him.

"I'm not certain." he admitted truthfully. "She and I are in a strange place right now."

"When haven't you been, Potter?" Ginny replied, a bit of the old Ginny bubbling to the surface. "You and her have been best friends since fourth year. Since then, every single person who has been close to you, myself included, have just been waiting for the day when you two would figure it out. Hell, you two have been in a strange place since you stuck your wand up that troll's nose."

"I suppose you're right." Harry admitted before hastily changing the subject. "Anyway, that's my speech. I know it wasn't wonderful but I hope it got the point across."

"It did." Ginny replied softly. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry and Hermione stayed with the Weasleys. While the shadow of Ginny's behavior still floated around the home, the occupants of The Burrow remained upbeat, with Harry finally beating Ron in wizard's chess for the first time.

Then, he was promptly beaten in the next five matches before Harry realized that his win was either a fluke or Ron had purposefully let him win.

He didn't know which possibility was worse.

As the sun finally became to sink over the horizon, Harry and Hermione made the decision to leave the Weasley's to their home for the evening. Things were certainly better between Harry and the Weasley family than they had been in months and for that, Harry was thankful.

But, there was still one thing that Harry wanted to do before he left. So, for a few minutes while Hermione was busy discussing the fascinating traditions of Argentinian witchcraft, Harry snuck out the backdoor and slowly marched across the lawn towards the pond.

There, under the biggest tree in the yard, lay one half of the Weasley twins: Fred. Of course, Harry had been here for the funeral but that had been just days before he had finally allowed the depression to consume him. During the days leading up to and following Fred's funeral, Harry could feel that there was something wrong with him.

He just didn't know what.

For the sake of everyone else, he had pressed forward. He had even said a few meaningless words at Fred's service, a poor homage to one of his closest friends.

It was why Harry stood where he was. He needed to say what he should have said those many months ago.

"Hi, Fred." Harry whispered to no one. "This has been a long time coming. You know, there was a part of me that never thought I would get to do this. Between my behavior, George's hatred of me and Ron, I honestly thought I may never see the Burrow again. But, Ron surprised me. Despite your best efforts, he always was the sneakiest of the Weasleys. Sure, you and George may have been a bit more diabolical about it but Ron always came through, even when you didn't expect it."

For a moment, Harry's train of thought was broken, lost to the thousands of memories he had of the Weasley twins.

"How sad is it? All of my memories of you include George. Sure, you were twins but it was always more than that, wasn't it? You were best friends, two parts of a whole."

Suddenly, Harry felt his stomach drop.

"That whole is just a hole now. Sure, I grieve for Remus and Tonks and a dozen others but I think of all of them, your death hit me hardest. Remus and Tonks had lived full lives...yours had barely begun. I can only hope that it was worth it."

"He would have said it was."

The voice had appeared out of nowhere. Slowly, Harry turned around to see George standing just a few feet behind him.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough." George said cryptically. Slowly, George walked up next to Harry, standing next to him silently as they each paid their respects.

Eventually, George spoke, his eyes still on his brother's grave.

"When Dumbledore died, everyone knew that the war was going to change. For three months, the Order scrambled. We couldn't decide who was going to lead in his absence. Nothing like that had ever been decided. I think we couldn't bare the thought-"

"Of Dumbledore not being around." Harry interrupted. "I know the feeling."

"During that time, each member of the Order had doubts. Well, all but one, that is."

"Fred?" Harry asked meekly.

"Yeah." George nodded. "While we were trying to figure things out, when we started to panic, Fred always stayed constant. For months, both before and after the fall of the Ministry, Fred would repeat his mantra: "Harry is our best hope. Trust him.""

"Dumbledore's words."

"Yes. There were times when all of us questioned you. Every single one of the Order wondered aloud at some point or another if you had any idea as to what you were doing." George said before chuckling softly. "We're not all complete idiots. When you end up in the Hall of Prophecy battling Voldemort, we had several ideas about why you there."

"We were never trying to trick anyone. We just thought the less people knew about the Prophecy, the better."

"I know that now. But then? I doubted you immensely. But Fred would always bring me back in. Every time, he would remind me just how quickly you would have given your life for ours."

Suddenly, George rounded on Harry, a grim look in his eyes.

"So, when Fred ended up giving his life for you, I could only think about his words. You would have done anything to save us, he said. Anything. But that word ended up tasting foul. I blamed you. I blamed you instead of realizing that you probably did everything in your power to end things as quickly as you could. I knew you for seven years but didn't think for a minute about the fact that you were probably crushing yourself over these deaths."

"I was...I am."

"Then stop." George ordered firmly. "I'm still not in a great place with how I feel about you. I will be honest about that. But I can admit that my reaction to you last year was more about me than it was about you."

"I wish our places were switched." Harry admitted. "I have my own surrogate family but nothing like what Fred had."

"I don't ever want to hear you say that again. They gave everything for you. They gave up the certainty of a happy, quiet life to fight the darkest wizard the world has ever known because they believed in you. That's a gift, Harry, and it's one you had better use. If you don't, then you're wasting that gift and the sacrifice that came with it."

Harry knew that whatever differences the pair of them had in the past didn't matter, George was right. Wishing for something that couldn't happen was meaningless. But to fight in the memory of those that gave everything, that could mean the world.

"You got it." Harry said softly.

"Good." George replied with a smirk. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go back inside."

"By all means."

With that, George gave a small nod before turning and walking back towards The Burrow. Overall, his first contact with George since Fred's funeral had gone much better than he could have ever hoped. Certainly things were not perfect. Harry still harbored a lot of guilt for Fred's death just as parts of George still blamed Harry.

But inside, both knew they had to get passed those feelings for the sake of those that they loved: their family.

That evening, Harry sat in the same spot where he had that morning: in the chair looking out over the lights of London. This time, he sat with the journal of Severus Snape. It had been weeks since Harry had opened the book. Ever since Harry had read the portion pertaining to his parents' deaths, he had lacked the interest with moving forward in the tome.

However, something about Harry's visit with the Weasleys earlier that day had sparked him into reading it. As he watched the Weasleys, Ginny included, start to bounce back from a series of losses as great as they had suffered, Harry couldn't help but think just how Snape had done the same thing.

It was that line of thought that drove Harry to that place. It was late. Hermione had already been in bed for over an hour before Harry had taken his place, ready to continue diving forward in the life of the murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

For the many years after the death of Harry's parents, Snape's entries were few and far between. Even when he did write, it was often short and lacking in any short of detail. Finally, Harry approached a single entry that lasted several pages of the pocket-sized book.

When he looked at the date, he wasn't surprised: September 1, 1991.

The day Harry had started at Hogwarts.

With his interest piqued, Harry continued down the page.

After years of waiting, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. For the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Potter is already being hailed as a hero. The disappointment was obvious on the faces of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses when Potter was Sorted.

For Slytherin House, he was a Blood Traitor, a Half-Blood and their mortal enemy.

For me, he is very simply a physical reminder of the worst person I have ever known while also desperately forcing me to relive every memory I ever had of her.

I have no doubt that he will be like his father. The look is all I need to see. In fact, if not for one stark detail, I would say that it was James Potter himself.

But those eyes. Her eyes. They reveal that he is still the son of Lily Evans. Assuredly, he will destroy every aspect of her legacy. If he is as important as Dumbledore professes him to be, then he will fail us all in miserable fashion. If he is not, then he will be unremarkable, a boy famous for doing something that had so little do with him.

He will be in my first Potions lesson in the morning. I have little doubt that he will prove unexceptional. When that happens, I will protect the boy, as I have promised Dumbledore, but with the understanding that he will never be what Dumbledore believes.

For he believes Potter to be the one that Trelawney prophesied about, the destroyer of The Dark Lord. Just like Voldemort had believed it.

But Voldemort is not gone. Already whispers of his return can be heard in the darkest reaches of the world. Some say he roams the countryside as a ghost, others say that he has possessed the body of others. Only time will tell but one this is for certain: Voldemort will return. When that time comes, the world will look to Potter for help.

I sincerely hope is everything his Mother was.

The next entry came years later. Again, the date was important.

June 29, 1995

Lord Voldemort has returned to the land of the living. Well, he has a body although I doubt very much that there is much "living" about him. Even before his defeat all those years ago, The Dark Lord had looked less than human.

But now, he looks every bit the monster he has become. His skin is now almost a perfect white, his face looks like his skin has been pulled tight over it. His nose has been replaced with a pair of slits, making him looking more serpent-like.

But it is the eyes that complete the monster for they are blood colored and menacing. When you look at them, fear is the only feeling that you can possibly feel. The only thing that makes me feel any better is that he remains perfectly clueless about my true allegiance. Of course he knows that I am working with Dumbledore but he believes that to be on his orders. It is his arrogance that blinds him to the possibility that I could one day betray him. He believes that absolute power gives him absolute control.

However, despite how often he may torture us for our failure, he cannot understand that my love for Lily supersedes the power that he could bestow upon me.

In the aftermath of the Dark Lord's return, something gnaws at the back of my mind. Crouch Jr. took Potter to the graveyard alone. Based on the stories that I have heard from the rest of the Death Eaters, they witnessed Potter face-off against the Dark Lord. In the past, no one fought the Dark Lord. Typically, they had simply given up and been unceremoniously executed.

But not Potter. According to the stories, he fought the Dark Lord and managed to escape. Certainly, they paint it as a coward's escape but if there is anything I do know for certain about Potter, it is that he is no coward. In fact, he has inherited too much of his father's bravado, encouraging him to run headfirst into any situation.

But the fact that Potter did eventually choose to run says something about him that I would have never said about his father: he knows when he is outclassed. If that is true, then it is possible that Potter has learned some humility, a trait which could serve him well over the next few years.

In the end, I doubt that it will mean much. His lack of true talent means that any battle between him and the true elite of the Dark Lord's followers will eventually end in his defeat. I can only hope that he is able to surround himself with the very best in the hopes that they are able to prop him up long enough to defeat The Dark Lord.

Having read enough for the evening, Harry put the book on the table next to him. Reading from Snape's perspective was always a strange event for Harry. But it gave him a lot to think about, knowing what Snape knew and how he acted.

So much to think about that he fell asleep staring out the window doing just that.


	19. Chapter 19

"Harry?"

Hermione's voice snapped Harry out his slumber, causing him to seize as jumped at the sound of her voice.

"What, what!?" Harry said a little louder than he wanted.

"We have our meeting in ten minutes."

"What time is it?"

"Ten 'til noon." Hermione responded, a smirk on her face.

"You let me sleep until noon?" Harry asked in shock.

"I'm not your mother. But I also wasn't going to let you sleep through our meeting." Hermione said as she sat on the arm of Harry's chair to look out on the London skyline. "Plus, I know that yesterday was rough for you."

"It was rough for everyone."

"Yes, but no one has the kind of relationship that you have with Ginny."

"Had."

"Huh?"

"Had." Harry corrected. "There is no us anymore."

"But Ginny will always be special to you, Harry. In the same way that Ron will be for me. It may not be something that the two of you get over but you will always be able to cherish that time you had together."

A knock on the door interrupted Harry's thoughts and moments later, Draco and Neville were entering the room, followed by Proudfoot and Wood. Knowing that he would have time to talk with Hermione more later, Harry waved his wand, lowering the blinds behind him.

As the rest of the team took their seats, Harry began.

"Thanks for coming." Harry started. "I'm going to let Hermione run this meeting. Apparently, we have new information on Dolohov."

"How?" Malfoy asked sharply.

"Thorfinn Rowle." Hermione said simply.

"I thought you hadn't gotten anything from him." Proudfoot asked Harry.

"I didn't get anything." Harry said, guilt burning from deep inside him. "Hermione did."

"How?"

"I offered him the opportunity to start a new life somewhere else while showing him just how little Dolohov thought of him."

"That worked?" Neville asked.

"It did."

"I wish I had the ability to call in favors like that." Wood commented. "If I did, Azkaban would be full of Death Eaters."

"Yeah, and half of the world's Death Eaters would be on the loose around the world." Proudfoot countered before turning back to Hermione. "How do you know that he'll live up to his end of the deal?"

"Because he already has. All we needed was as much information on Dolohov as he knew. If he hadn't given us enough, I would have pulled the deal."

"So what do we know?" Malfoy asked.

Pulling out a series of parchments, Hermione passed one to each of them.

"Dolohov is apparently very wary of entering England at all. According to Rowle, Dolohov hasn't entered England in six months and London proper for over a year."

"So we know where he isn't, but where is he?" Neville asked.

"A safehouse in Scotland." Hermione replied. "Apparently, the house used to belong to his family, specifically an uncle that Robards believe was intimidated into willing the house to Antonin."

"Well, that's practically nothing. I'm assuming the house is Unplottable?" Malfoy asked.

"It is and it's not nothing. Dolohov was lazy. He just made the house Unplottable but he neglected to remove the will from the records at the Ministry, which would have been well within his right."

"What does that give us?" Harry questioned.

"It gives us the ability to identify where in Scotland Dolohov's uncle was from. From there, we'll be able to trace the magic surrounding the house. It will be an arduous process but it is something we can do if we're careful."

"So we're closer to tracking him down. Did Rowle give us anything else?"

"Yes, he gave us the biggest lead we've ever gotten."

"How?" Wood asked incessently.

"He gave us the location of a meeting that Dolohov would be having…..with Amycus Carrow."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked. "How would he know that?"

"Because it's a regular meeting." Hermione explained. "Apparently, Amycus has people that get messages between him and his sister in Azkaban."

"To what end?"

"They're keeping track of Rookwood." Hermione replied. "It is very clear that Alecto is working for Dolohov."

"Or is pretending to anyway." Malfoy countered. "Alecto is arguably the most ruthless piece of rubbish I've had the mispleasure of meeting, my aunt Bella aside."

"For once, I agree with Draco." Harry added. "Alecto wouldn't be above working for the obvious front runner for the Riddle's replacement."

"Either way, it appears that they're looking for either a way to recruit Rookwood or take him out."

"Where do they meet?"

"A Muggle pub in Glasgow." Hermione said, chuckling softly.

"You're serious?" Neville asked incredulously. "A Muggle pub?"

"I'm serious." Hermione answered. "They meet about once a month. Dolohov passes information to Amycus and in return, she gives Dolohov an update on the goings on from within the prison."

"Do we think that Dolohov is planning a prison break?" Harry asked.

"I wouldn't put it passed him." Hermione said, a look of apprehension on her face. "At this point, finding Amycus Carrow should be our main priority."

"Shouldn't be hard." Harry replied. "When is their next meeting?"

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because we're going to ambush their next meeting." Harry replied firmly. "Dolohov and his forces have been running unchecked through the country for too long. We have an opportunity to take him down."

"But Harry, we don't even know how these meetings work." Neville countered. "He could bring forty Death Eaters with him and hide them among the Muggles. He may even shield himself with Imperused Muggles."

"I wouldn't put it passed him to have a private room for the meeting either." Malfoy added. "Antonin always enjoyed feeling elite."

Unfortunately, Harry could see the point in their argument. As much as Harry wanted to call in every Auror and take Dolohov down, they simply couldn't risk it without having more information.

"Fine. You're right." Harry shot back. "Then we case the meeting. We'll talk to Ron and George about getting some Extendable Ears. We get intel, we observe them and we plan for the possible takedown for the next meeting."

"Harry, you know that if we screw this up, things are going to get much worse." Proudfoot explained. "Dolohov will go to ground so deep that finding his family home will become our only option."

"Well, then let's make sure that we don't screw this up." Harry said before turning to Hermione. "Is that everything?"

"According to Rowle, the meeting happens the first Saturday of each month at the same pub. However, Rowle didn't know the name of the pub, just that it was on the River Clyde."

"It seems strange that Dolohov would be so careless." Wood mused softly. "Same place, same time and date? Seems oddly regimented for someone as paranoid as Dolohov has become if he won't even enter England."

"He feels safe in Scotland." Malfoy reasoned. "He knows that we don't do regular patrols of rural Scotland and even a city like Glasgow is large enough for him to lose us in if he did run into trouble."

"I suppose." Harry said, a feeling of unease settling in. He did agree with Wood. It seemed vaguely like a trap that Dolohov was waiting to spring.

Unfortunately, Harry knew that they had no choice but to try and spring it eventually if they were going to capture Dolohov and help end his insurrection.

"Alright, we'll meet here the morning of the meeting where we'll work our way through our plan." Harry said, officially ending the meeting. "Everyone is free to go except Draco."

"Why me?"

"I would like to speak with you." Harry said softly.

"Fine." Malfoy said as he sank back into his seat. Turning to Hermione, she read his mind and nodded to him gently, vacating the room to leave Malfoy and Harry alone. Once Neville and Wood had gotten far enough away from the front door, Harry waved his wand and silenced the room to the rest of the world.

This conversation would go no further than the two of them.

"What do you need, Potter?" Malfoy snapped, his normal manner returning now that there was no one else there.

"We've needed to have a conversation for the last couple of weeks." Harry shot back. "I should have talked to you about it after we caught Rowle but I was distracted."

"As always."

"Less commentary from you." Harry chided back. "Know that how you answer this next question has the possibility for very poor consequences."

"Such as?"

"A cell in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

"For what?"

"You are going to tell me what your mother was doing meeting with Rowle." Harry said, the faintest growl in his voice. "If I like what you tell me, then you and your family remain free."

"If you don't?"

"You go to Azkaban until this investigation is over and we can prove that you had nothing to do with it." Harry said before standing and walking to the window. "So, if you appreciate your freedom, start talking."

"Fine." Malfoy growled. "My mother has largely been my main source for the information I've been giving the Ministry."

"Why not yourself?"

"Because many former Death Eaters consider me a traitor. Those that survived know that I didn't do much fighting during the Battle. Once my parents found me, we got out before we could take the chance of any of us dying."

"Your mother fled as well."

"Death Eaters may believe what you think are terrible things but most of them do love their families. My father and I, we were treated as cowards. My mother, on the other hand, was just a doting mother saving her child."

"Conservatism at its finest." Harry mused softly.

"I suppose." Malfoy reasoned. "Either way, in order to help me, my mother has been playing the role of the betrayed to former Death Eaters and their associates. She often doesn't tell me where she's meeting and she almost never tells me who she is meeting with. But, when she's done, she gives me the information she gleaned from her conversation."

"So do you have more information that you're telling us?"

"I do." Malfoy admitted. "Most of it is useless, social bits about which former Death Eater wants to kill whom. Nothing that could be useful."

"But some of it is useful?" Harry asked harshly, turning back to face Malfoy. "You mean to tell me that you have valuable information that you're sitting on?"

"There's only so much that we can use without implicating either me or my mother, Potter. If you want to catch these people, then we have to remain in their good graces. You move too quickly on a very specific piece of information and they'll know it was us."

"So what?"

"If they know it's me or my family, they come to our house in the middle of the night and they murder us. Now, the Ministry has a high profile homicide on its hands and no longer any source of information on who could have possibly done it."

Unfortunately, Harry had to agree with that line of thinking. In the past, the thought of Malfoy withholding information would have driven him insane. Now, it still didn't sit well with him but he had no choice: he had to trust Malfoy.

"Know one thing, Malfoy. If I find out you are keeping important information from me, regardless of your family's safety, I won't hesitate to put you behind bars. You resist that and I kill you without a second thought."

Malfoy chuckled grimly before replying. "What's your point? If it's not you, then it's the Death Eaters that I'm actively betraying. If we don't stop them, then I spend the rest of my life in the line of fire for everyone on both sides."

"I suppose." Harry said softly. With that, the pair of them nodded to each other, signalling that this was the end to their meeting. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed back the instinct to have Malfoy followed. Throughout all of their history, the both of them had sought to escalate any conflict between the two of them. Someone had to trust the other eventually.

So, against the impulses of his nagging subconscious, Harry simply turned back to his chair and sat, stewing over the thought of Malfoy hiding possible information.

June 20, 1996

The world can't hide behind stupidity or timidity any longer. The secret is out: Lord Voldemort is alive and well. Spotted by Cornelius Fudge himself, Voldemort has been outed. There is a part of me that believes that he wished to be caught. As much as he was enjoying the world believing that he was still a spectre somewhere in Central Europe, the fact that he was very much a living spectre made him all the more terrifying.

For those that believed Dumbledore and Potter, it was simply confirmation of what they already knew. But for those that didn't, it must have come as a complete surprise that the world's most powerful wizard was back among the living and had hidden from the world for an entire year.

Of course, none of the Order is actually thinking about this right now. Instead, they're preparing for Black's funeral. I know that the Order is lacking in bodies and that even someone as childish as Black could serve.

But I simply cannot be brought to care. If there was one person living who I wished were dead more than Voldemort himself, it was Black. At least he had talent to go with his braggadocious attitude. Black was a marginal wizard at best, hiding behind Potter and Lupin and their aptitude.

So, there is one less Black in the world.

Good riddance.

Reading Snape belittle his godfather had nearly caused Harry to throw the book off the roof. Instead, Harry remained composed, knowing that, even in death, he wouldn't give Snape the satisfaction of reacting to his emotions.

He had to have known that Harry would read this and have a reaction. Part of Harry thought that was the whole reason that Snape had willed him the book in the first place, a mystery that Harry still hadn't solved.

Either way, Harry turned the page and noticed that the next section was another telling of Voldemort's story. Pushing forward, Harry read on.

Upon my return to England, I took to covering the tracks of my former life. The orphanage in which I grew up was burned to the ground. Those that would choose to remember me only by my Muggle name were silenced. Certain precious valuables were hidden, protected from those that may seek to take them.

With my return to England, I found that I could move freely. No one knew me based on my looks for I had changed much since leaving. So, I began using my adopted name freely. Often, they would ask me to which noble house did I belong. My answer was simple: one of pure blood.

For nearly a year, I hid in plain sight, observing the world that I had left behind. What I discovered was a world plagued by weakness. For a moment, I had considered being gentle when it came time to take my homeland.

Instead, I saw a dispassionate group of those that acquiesced to the lesser race of Muggles to whom we bent the knee.

No more.

Eleven months later, I returned to Durmstrang. But this time, I did not come alone. As I made my way back to Bulgaria, I called upon those who would follow me: those of Pureblood and those who desired power above all else. There were ten of them, including the son of my former mentor, Karkaroff. His son was nothing like his father but he would be useful nonetheless.

The first meeting of my knights led to their name: The Death Eaters. That was their ultimate purpose: to seek a way to avoid death and bring it to those who were weak.

There, the first of the Death Eaters were initiated with the Dark Mark. They were told that it may be years before I come calling on them. However, if they were patient, they would be rewarded beyond measure when the Dark Lord called for them.

I spent another two years circling the globe, learning all that I could about magic and the power it could grant me.

When that was done, I returned to London and called upon my followers. Naturally, rumors began to circle of a powerful new wizard stirring up dissent among the Pureblood members of society. So, I went and met face-to-face with the only man that could have possibly challenged me. When I met with Dumbledore, I did it under the guise of interviewing for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. But both of us knew that this way.

This was a stand-off. I offered to work at the school, not because I desired the position, but because I could use it to funnel the brightest of young Pureblood minds into my Death Eaters. If Dumbledore had simply given in, there would have been minimal bloodshed among those whose lives actually matter.

Instead, Dumbledore was as foolish as always, denying me what was rightfully mine and setting the entire country on a path to war.

For another fourteen years, I continued to assemble my army in private, utilizing the connections of those with money, power or both.

Finally, in the year 1970, it was time. Time for my glorious revolution.

And the first civil war between our people began.

The night before Dolohov's meeting, Harry had made his evening pilgrimage to the roof of Hermione's apartment. Each night, just before going to bed, Harry would go to the roof and spend at least an hour simply staring out into the city. It gave him the opportunity to clear his mind and remember the size of the world that he found himself in.

Sometimes, Hermione would come up and join him. Both Ron and Ginny had come up to join him at least once since their return from South America.

Tonight, Harry expected to be alone. Hermione was working late at the Ministry, finishing the paperwork that had built up in her office while she worked for Harry's team. Harry had hardly seen her for the past few days as she worked to catch up before their planned stakeout of Dolohov's meeting.

However, his wand in hand, Harry turned as he heard the door to the roof open. While he didn't raise his wand, he could tell that the subject was still wary at seeing the Man Who Lived that one edge.

"Mate." Ron said softly.

"Ron." Harry replied, returning his wand to its holster. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione requested some stuff from our securities line for you guys."

"What do you have?"

"A few things." Ron said as he pulled out a case from behind him. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand but Harry had no doubt that it held everything they needed. Ever since the quest to destroy the Horcruxes, the world had begun to lean on Undetectable Extension Charms when Hermione displayed just how effective it was at concealing objects of any size.

Reaching into the case, Ron pulled out a small marbled bead.

"We call it a Wireless. Using some of the most complicated runes work I've ever seen George do, we're able to connect a series of these together. Simply put it in your ear and you can talk to anyone else who is wearing one, regardless of distance."

"Like a muggle walkie." Harry muttered before he noticed the strange look that Ron was giving him. "Basically a telephone."

"Ah, yeah. I have no desire to use one of those again."

"And I have no desire to hear you use one again." Harry chuckled. "What else?"

The next item looked like a plain mask without any sort of features. However, when Ron put it on, something unexpected happened. It shrank to fit Ron's face exactly and became almost like a second skin, albeit with a completely different face.

"These masks give you the ability to instantly hide your features. The charms will notice your eye colors, hair colors and distinguishing features and eliminate them entirely. You will look to be the exact opposite of what you naturally look like."

"Hence the black hair and no freckles." Harry observed.

"Right you are." Ron said as he tapped his wand to the mask, which instantly released. "Imagine you're running from Death Eaters. Run into a crowd and put one of these beauties on. They've never know who you are."

"That's a remarkable piece of magic, Ron. Tell George I'm impressed."

"Well, if you're impressed that George did it, you're going to be completely baffled when I tell you that I designed these."

Exactly as Ron predicted, Harry stood, his mouth agape, simply staring at his friend.

"Pardon me?"

"I had help with George on some of the transfiguration but all the charms and runic work was mine. I've been going back and studying."

"Ron Weasley, studying?" Harry said before weakly drawing his wand. "Who are you and what have you done with Ronald Weasley?"

"Real crack-up you are, mate." Ron said, rolling his eyes as he put the mask away and then retrieved the next and final item, this one being something Harry was intimately familiar with.

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder." Harry said with a grin.

"Hey, it ain't broke." Ron replied, faking his worst American Southern accent.

"No, it most certainly is not. Those Wireless are going to be amazing, Ron, thanks."

"Not a problem, mate. We always want to help the Ministry catch those bigoted bastards."

"Bigoted?" Harry replied, feigning shock. "Ron, you're studying and using words like bigoted, keep this up and I won't recognize you anymore."

"And you keep this up and I'll beat your arse with my broomstick."

"That's more like it." Harry grinned.

"Anyway, I have five of these for you. I left them in Hermione's loft for you lot."

"Thanks, Ron. Tell the rest of your family I said hi."

"You tell them yourself sometime." Ron replied as he hugged Harry. "Your visit last weekend was not a one time deal."

"Yes, sir." Harry shot back complete with mock salute.

"Merlin help me." Ron muttered softly as he turned to walk back inside the building. Just as he did, the door opened again and Hermione appeared in the doorway. It was the first time that the two of them had seen each other privately in months and to say it was awkward was an understatement.

"Mione."

"I thought I told you not to call me that." Hermione said evenly.

"It always seemed to fit."

"In your mind, maybe." Hermione said before noticing Harry standing over Ron's shoulder. "Harry, how are you?"

"Fine. Just like I was when you left for work." Harry said, unable to suppress an uncomfortable grin.

"Of course." Hermione said before silence took hold for a few moments.

Looking between Ron and Hermione, he couldn't believe that it had come to this. Certainly, their relationship would never be as simple as it had been prior to when they had attempted a relationship but this was just getting ridiculous.

"Gods help me." Harry grumbled. "When this business with Dolohov is over, I am sitting the two of you down and we are working this out. I can't handle this anymore."

Ron turned over his shoulder to Hermione. "Harry Potter, relationship counselor. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Because Harry's been the best among us at dealing with his failed relationships." Hermione said with an evil grin. "Speak to Cho Chang recently?"

"That's beside the point." Harry said, his eyes not meeting her as he realized that it was exactly the point she was making. "You two were best friends for years. There's no reason that you can't be again."

"I suppose." Ron said softly before turning back to Hermione. "Either way, I need to be getting home."

"Okay." Hermione said softly.

"You are standing in the doorway."

At this point, Harry didn't believe it was possible for this situation to become any more awkward. Thankfully, there was Hermione there to prove him wrong as always.

"So I am."

"Could you move?"

"Oh." Hermione said with the sudden realization that she was, in fact, in the way. "Of course!"

In one of the stranger pieces of choreography Harry had ever seen, Hermione pirouetted out of Ron's way towards Harry. With a shake of his head and a chuckle, Ron waved and was on his way.

This left a very confused Hermione and an amused Harry on their own.

"Well, that was interesting." Harry said before turning back to the view.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly sure what happened there." Hermione added as she came to stand next to Harry, her head on his shoulder.

"That makes two of us."

For the next several minutes, neither of them spoke. Instead, they simply enjoyed the cityscape in silence. Finally, Harry thought of something that he did wish to speak about.

"Ginny said something interesting to me the other day."

"Really? What?" Hermione said without moving her head.

"I was telling her that the reason that we didn't work was because we each needed someone to help with our demons."

"I can't disagree with that."

"Well, she asked me if you were that person."

Again, silence.

"Hermione?"

"I heard you."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You know what."

"Do I?"

Finally, Harry couldn't stand it anymore. However, rather than verbally expressing himself, Harry broke away from Hermione, moving to the far side of the roof. Running his hands through his hair, Harry knew that part of why this was so hard was his fault. There was no person in the world that Harry wanted to push away less than Hermione Granger. That's why even approaching this conversation was as daunting as anything Harry had done since the last war.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, still not giving him anything.

"You have nothing to say?"

"What is there to say?"

"Well, you could say what I said."

"What did you say?" Hermione asked, suddenly very on edge.

"I said that you and I were in a strange place."

"That doesn't sound very good."

"I know." Harry admitted softly. Taking a beat, Harry continued. "But it is true."

"How so?"

"There's just something different about how I view you."

"I thought you said that you viewed me like a sister."

Harry knew that his words to Ron would eventually come back to bite him in the ass during this conversation. He just hadn't thought it would be the first thing she had pulled out of her quiver.

"I did." Harry admitted. "But I think that I was wrong. I don't even know what it's like to have a sister."

"Harry."

"Lame excuse, I know. But what I said was true and there's some truth to the rest of what she said."

"What did she say?"

"That things have been different between us since fourth year. You took my side and trusted me when no one else did, not even Ron. That put you in a different league. Then he leaves during the Horcrux hunt, you stay."

"So I'm more loyal than Ron is or maybe I'm bewitched by your masculinity," Hermione said with a chuckle. "What's your point?"

"My point?" Harry asked.

"You brought this up for a reason."

"I did?"

"I have to assume that you did."

"Is that really such a good assumption to make?"

"Harry!"

"What if she's right!?"

"Do you think she is?"

"Can you stop answering questions with questions?"

"Why?" Hermione replied with a smirk.

"Gah!" Harry gasped, throwing his arms in the air and stalking as far away from her as he could get. He had known that this conversation was not going to go well but even Harry couldn't have imagined he would have sound this juvenile.

Finally, he felt arms close around him from behind and Hermione's head in the center of his back, hugging him close.

"You know that you are important to me, Harry."

"I never doubted it." Harry said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I have a lot of proof over the years."

"Good."

A few seconds passed as Harry allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of having Hermione close.

"I think she's right."

"Ginny?"

"Yeah." Harry sighed.

"Maybe."

It was a glimmer, just the smallest crack in her armor.

Harry would take every bit of it.

"Maybe?"

"Harry, I sent my parents to Australia without their memories so that I could help you. I lived with you in the presence of a Horcrux in a tent for nine months because I believed in you. I stayed with you even when you tried to push everyone else way because you matter that much to me."

Harry had no reply. Instead, Hermione continued.

"You mean more to me than any person in the world, Harry. I love my parents dearly but they only understand a very small portion of who I am anymore. I love the Weasleys but there is a part of me that they simply don't get."

"But I get it all?"

"You do." Hermione admitted. "You've known a life without magic. You've seen how magic made your life better while also nearly tearing it apart. You were there for the entirety of the Horcrux hunt. You have been a part of every formative experience in my life after the age of eleven."

"You had your relationship with Ron." Harry said as he turned around to face Hermione, who left her arms wrapped around him. Rather than look down at her, Harry spoke over her head with her hair flowing wildly in front of him.

"Do you seriously think you weren't a part of that?" Hermione asked, her face buried in his chest. "That was a three person relationship if I've ever seen one."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We didn't need a third person to screw that up. I'm certain we would have figured it out on our own."

"Still, it's not fair to the two of you that I permeate into every part of both of your lives."

"It's the reality of being friends with the Boy Who Lived."

"Still-"

"Harry, one of these days, you are going to have to accept that not everything is your fault."

"That will probably come around the same time you pass up on a good library."

"Har har, Mr. Potter." Hermione chuckled as she pulled away to look up at Harry. "What brought this on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've never been forthcoming on any particular emotions before. You never thought this way when we were facing Voldemort, an assuredly more dangerous threat, so this isn't you fearing for your life talking. If not all that, then what is it?"

"I don't really have a good answer other than I can't get what Ginny said out of my mind." Harry replied before breaking away from Hermione. "Plus, I wanted to try and have this conversation on better terms than the last time we had it."

"The last time?"

"After you caught me hallucinating." Harry replied. "When I woke up."

"When you told me that I was your world." Hermione said, filling in the rest of the story.

"Yeah, then. I meant it when I said it then but I was too afraid to really confirm. I stood behind my words only because you forced me to. I guess I wanted you to know that I really meant that."

"Harry…."

"We never finished that conversation."

"We did not." Hermione confirmed. "Does this have something to do with tomorrow?"

"It does."

"I assume you're getting one of your bad feelings."

"I am." Harry confirmed.

"You are letting me know how you feel in case I don't come back."

"I won't be there."

"You won't." Hermione agreed. "However, you have taught me a great many things over the years. One of them is how to kick some ass if I need to."

"Hermione!"

"It's true." Hermione smirked. "I will be back and then we can have the rest of the conversation."

"What's the rest of the conversation?"

"You'll have to wait to find out." Hermione said softly.

However, before she turned to leave, Hermione lifted herself onto her toes and placed a small kiss on Harry's lips. It was brief but left Harry in a dazed state.

"Good night, Harry."

With that, Hermione turned and left Harry Potter on the roof, grinning ear-to-ear.

The plan was simple.

Proudfoot and Wood had organized a group of around forty Aurors, stationed strategically along the River Clyde. Each were given photos of Antonin Dolohov and Alecto Carrow and told to report to Wood once either had been spotted. From there, the rest of the Aurors would clear the area, leaving Proudfoot to find and follow whichever of the two was spotted.

Once Proudfoot was on the trail, the rest fell to Hermione and Neville. They would be wearing the masks that Ron had given them and would infiltrate the location of the meeting in the most unobtrusive manner. While they were doing that, Wood and Malfoy would attempt to determine the location of the meeting within the building.

With that determined, Hermione and Neville would move in to ensure that the contents of the meeting could be recorded, whether magically or, despite Malfoy's protestations, by a Muggle voice recorder that Hermione had on her person.

So, with all of that, the plan was simple.

At least that's what Harry was telling himself as he paced Hermione's apartment. Just after the meeting where Harry had finished nailing down their plan, Hermione had worked on creating an enchanted map of the area for Harry to view. Much like the Marauder's Map, this map was keyed into the location of each the Wireless for each Task Force member.

In this way, Harry could follow the movements of each person as they moved along the River.

It made it easier knowing where everyone was at.

It was still driving him mad not being in the field.

"Update." Harry said softly as he paced the room.

"Still nothing, Harry." Proudfoot said in his ear.

"Fine."

"Harry, be patient. We have plenty of people looking for them. We'll find them."

"Unless they know we're here, then we'll only find them when they want us to."

"No one knows we're here, Harry." Wood added to the conversation. "We didn't even fill out actual forms for this. There's nothing on the books and we asked each person who is here personally. They wouldn't have made it on our list if we didn't trust them."

"You may trust them but that doesn't mean I do."

"You'll have to trust people someday, Harry." Neville replied.

"Says you." Harry growled. "Report back when you have something."

For nearly an hour, that was the sort of conversation Harry had. Finally, there was a breakthrough.

"Harry, we are go." Wood said urgently. "Proudfoot has Carrow in sight and is tailing. All other Aurors are retreating to Ministry"

"Get us the name of the pub." Harry ordered firmly.

For nearly a minute, there was no answer. Finally, Proudfoot spoke.

"Carrow is sitting at an outdoor table at McCallum's. She has her wand in hand. Be wary of approach."

"Got it." Harry confirmed. "Hermione and Neville, take a seat at a table where she can't see you."

"You want us that close?" Hermione asked.

"I want you to be able to move with her if they go inside." Harry explained to the pair of them. "Now find a seat before Dolohov arrives."

Looking down at the map, Harry watched as the dots indicating Hermione and Neville moved in tandem towards McCallum's. Finally, the pair of them rested next to each other.

"Can we get a tracking charm on her?"

"That will only work for the short term. Nothing past what we can already see."

Translation: It was only going to work on their map. For some reason, Hermione didn't want to put a full tracker on her. Thinking quickly, Harry thought of a possible reason.

"If she discovers the tracker before we can find her, then she'll know that we were listening."

"Precisely."

"Great. Well, give me a close range tracker on both her and Dolohov when he arrives."

Instantly, another dot appeared on Harry's map with Alecto Carrow's name attached to it.

"Nicely done. Malfoy, how is the magical recording coming?"

"We're close to having it ready to go. Another five minutes and we should be good to go."

Their method of recording was simple. They would charm a stone to act as an intake for their Wireless system. Not only would it permanently record the conversation but it would simultaneously broadcast it through their conversation as they spoke.

It would allow Hermione and Neville to get out of their as soon as they could.

"Well, if we can have it sooner, that would be appreciated."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Malfoy snapped, his sneer present even without his mug.

"Eyes on." Wood said suddenly. "Dolohov coming from the opposite way."

Instantly, a pit formed in Harry's stomach. While he knew that this was important, he was putting two of his closest friends within twenty feet of the most dangerous Dark wizards left on the planet.

It was certainly not something that Harry was excited to do.

"Malfoy, do we have it?"

"Granger, drop the stone."

"Give me the marker as well."

Almost at the same time, Harry saw a marker for Dolohov as he also heard the beginnings of a conversation between Dolohov and Carrow.

"Cut all chatter from here on out. Hermione, Neville: move to the alley adjacent to the building. Malfoy and Wood, I want you on the ground. Proudfoot, stay out of sight but move closer."

Hearing no arguments, Harry looked down at the map to see that each group was following his orders. With that taken care of, Harry listened in on the conversation between the two Death Eaters.

"Rookwood is still in place."

"I'm glad." Dolohov replied. His voice was like sandpaper, rocks and glass thrown into a blender and then crushed under a car tire. "How many does he have?"

"Currently, he has convinced about fifteen inmates to follow his lead."

"Could he get more?"

"I don't see what you're so concerned about."

"It's not your job to concerned, Alecto. It's your job to get me information."

Malfoy and Rowle had been right. It seemed that Alecto was somehow getting information from Azkaban. For what purpose and to what end, that was the real question.

"Fine, ya kill joy. Yes, it appears that he can get more but he won't pose any sort of serious threat on his own."

"What about Lestrange?"

"Lestrange has gone underground. Last I heard, he was working with a crew of around one hundred."

"It's sad that's all the resistance that Lestrange can muster."

"Sad for who?"

"For everyone." Dolohov replied cryptically.

"Fine." Carrow replied before continuing on. "Have you heard anything new on Potter?"

"Nothing."

"That's disappointing. Augustus was asking about him."

"Why?"

"Rookwood killed one of those blood traitors during the Battle. Augustus wanted to know how Potter was taking it."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said why don't you ask him? He's been listening to every word that we've said."

The blood in Harry's veins went cold as he heard Dolohov speak. For a few moments, Harry said nothing, hoping that he had just imagined what he had heard.

"I know you are listening, Potter. It doesn't matter. You haven't heard anything new."

This time, Harry had to admit that he wasn't dreaming and he wasn't imagining things. Dolohov knew that he was listening.

"You may think yourself clever, Potter. But you are pathetically predictable. The Dark Lord proved it when he lured you to the Department of Mysteries. He proved it when you let Dumbledore die instead of stopping Snape from murdering him. But most of all, he proved it when you came marching to your death in the Forbidden Forest."

"Something broke in The Dark Lord's magic that day but the proof that you are nothing but predictable was etched in stone. Earlier this week, I let slip to several strategic sources that I had a regular meeting in Glasgow with Alecto Carrow. I gave up this knowledge knowing two things. First, you are predictable. Second, I knew that I had never once had this meeting."

As Dolohov spoke, Harry knew that this was exceedingly terrible news. He had one of those choices. First, he could order his team to back out. If he did, Dolohov would win this battle with more intel on Harry than he could have gotten in a year.

Or he could encourage his team to take Dolohov and Carrow down. It was certainly a risky proposition.

"Potter, I am going to leave now. I will leave knowing who leaked the information to you and knowing that you are every bit as predictable as I thought. Good day."

Looking down, Harry expected to see Dolohov's marker disappear. Instead, he heard Hermione's voice over the Wireless.

"Temporary Anti-Apparition Ward." Hermione whispered.

"Thank Merlin for you, Hermione Granger." Harry said, a hint of celebration in his voice. "Take him down. Proudfoot, everyone is on you."

Seconds later, Harry heard a smattering of shouts, grunts and curses. Leaning over the table in front of him, Harry could do nothing but listen and wait. Eventually, Harry squeezed the chair in front of him so hard that he cracked the wood.

Two minutes passed before there was silence. For what seemed like an eternity, no one spoke.

"Hermione? Neville? Anyone?"

"Dolohov is gone."

Despite the terrible news, Harry let out a sigh of relief as he heard Hermione's voice through the Wireless.

"What's the situation?"

"We wounded Carrow. I was able to get her down and Proudfoot Stunned her."

"How are we?"

"Proudfoot is dead." Hermione muttered softly. "He stepped in front of me. Dolohov hit Proudfoot instead."

"Hermione…."

"Malfoy got his as well. Thrown into the river."

"Have you been able to find him?"

"No." Neville replied simply. "He got thrown a pretty long ways, Harry. I know that we didn't particularly care for him but it's a sorry way to see someone go."

Taking a few moments to think, Harry finally spoke, the sound of defeat finally present in his voice.

"Hermione and Wood, take Carrow to the cells at the Ministry and then report to Kingsley. Neville, contain the area. The Ministry will be sending Obliviators."

"You got it." Neville replied.

"When the three of you are done, go home. We'll reconvene here tomorrow morning."

"Understood."

Having given his orders, Harry took the Wireless out of his ear and placed it on the table next to him. Of all the things that could have happened today, losing Dolohov on a mission that was very clearly bolloxed from the start, along with two members of his Task Force, was about as bad as he could have imagined it.

Tonight, Harry would have to report to Kingsley himself. Tomorrow, if they were still operating, they would begin recruiting two new members to their task force.

But for now, Harry simply sat in his chair and stared out the window, wondering just how much worse things could get before they got better.


	20. Chapter 20

To say that Kingsley had been upset was an understatement. It had taken the Obliviators nearly a full day to corral all of the people in the area, interrogate them and remove or adjust certain elements of the events. All in all, it had been one of the largest potential breaches in the Statute of Secrecy in decades.

And it all lay at Harry's feet.

Combined with the deaths of a Senior Auror and one of the Ministry's most valuable moles, it had been a complete trainwreck. However, when Harry confirmed that Narcissa Malfoy had been bringing in much of Malfoy's information, Harry was certain that Kingsley was going to self-immolate. Instantly, he ordered Narcissa Malfoy into protective custody.

Unfortunately, no one knew where she was. In the night, Malfoy Manor had been burned to the ground, obvious evidence that Dolohov knew who his leak had been. While there was no proof that Narcissa had been home at the time of the attack, there was no one to confirm her whereabouts being elsewhere. According to the Ministry, she was missing and likely dead.

Thankfully, Kingsley had been able to cover up the news that Harry's task force had been involved. But, the Minister had made it abundantly clear that this was their last chance.

One more colossal screw-up and Kingsley would pull everyone back to the Ministry, disband the task force and likely bring heavy fines against Harry himself for the damage his team had caused.

So, all-in-all, not a great day as Harry finally sat down with the remaining members of his team.

At this point, they were floating without a paddle or a rutter. There was no way that a four person team could conceivably cover all of the intel and operations that they needed to do. They would need to recruit at least one more person, if not two.

"Unfortunately, I did not think of anyone else when I came up this team." Harry said gently. "Who else can we trust?"

"Dumbledore's Army." Neville replied. "They would answer the call."

"Would they?" Harry asked. "I've not really been myself lately."

"I think they would."

"I think we can go through the list and seek out specific members that we wish to contact but I'm not certain I want to go through the disappointment of the meager turnout of a blanket call to arms."

"Fine." Neville said before turning to Hermione. "Do you still have the list?"

"Always." Hermione smirked before leaving the room. Seconds later, she returned with a long piece of parchment in her hand.

"Alright, who did we have here?" Hermione muttered to herself. "Luna?"

"Luna is somewhere in the Amazon right now." Neville replied. "She would answer the call but there's no way we can contact her in any sort of reasonable time period."

"OK. What about Susan?"

"Susan works for the Department of International Cooperation." Wood said.

"So?"

"Even for missions that are off the book, we try and keep this kind of information out of the hands of people who are going to be associating with foreign diplomats."

"That makes sense." Harry replied. "Seamus works for the Weasleys. Maybe they could spare him?"

"I suppose we could ask but Seamus has never been particularly good at Defense." Hermione countered. "What about Cho?"

"No." Harry said shortly.

"Harry-"

"I said no. Moving on."

"Fine. What about either of the Patil sisters?"

"Parvati is a writer for the Daily Prophet. Even if she were to join us, I'm not sure that she could morally ignore the fact that what we're doing is news and she couldn't write about it." Neville answered.

"What about Padma?" Harry asked.

"Last I checked, she was teaching Potions at Beauxbatons." Hermione replied. "Not ideal but I think she's someone that we could look at."

"We'll put her on the short list."

"She's the only one on the short list."

"Well, it is short." Harry said with a dark chuckle before looking at the list further. "George?"

"Are you seriously suggesting him?" Hermione asked.

"It's not the worst idea." Harry said, his arms raised in defense. "He's gifted, he is one of the best casters I've ever met and he's ideally placed within the wizarding community."

"He's also the one that blames you for the death of his twin." Hermione countered.

"We're in a better place." Harry said simply. "Put him on the short list."

"Why not Ginny?" Neville asked.

"Not Ginny." Harry and Hermione said in unison.

"Why not?" Wood asked. "Rumors of Ginny's actions during the lost year were legendary."

"We won't be getting that Ginny." Harry said simply. "Ginny is in a fairly similar place to where I was when we started this. I can't have her here. We'd spend more time worrying about her than the job we're doing."

"Katie Bell?" Hermione asked.

"Playing Quidditch in America."

"Angelina?"

"Also playing Quidditch in America." Wood replied.

"Since when?" Harry asked.

"Katie got her signed onto her team about eight weeks ago." Wood confirmed.

"Great." Harry grumbled.

Suddenly, it was Neville who came up with a name.

"What about Hannah?"

"Hannah?" Hermione asked.

"Hannah Abbott."

"What about her?" Harry asked.

"She was great during the lost year." Neville replied. "Of all the students who had to step up, I think she was the best. We ended up giving her a watch command."

"What is she doing now?"

"As far as I know, she works in the scheduling department at the Ministry. Seems to be stuck there."

"You trust her?"

"I gave her a watch command when Snape had the castle." Neville replied firmly.

"Fair enough. Make contact with her. Tell her that Hermione wants to meet with her tomorrow. Don't be specific but let her know what she can expect."

"Will do." Neville replied.

For the next hour, other names were bounced around but none seemed to stick for one reason or another. Finally, Harry decided that this was the time to break the emergency glass.

"We have mentioned a single person who was in Slytherin."

"Of course not." Wood replied. "We're pretty sure that Malfoy or his mother just ratted us out. How can we trust them?"

"Because not all Slytherins are monsters, Oliver." Harry snapped. "It's a juvenile thing to think that just because someone wears a certain badge that means you know everything about their person. Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor, remember?"

"I suppose."

"Are there any Slytherins that we think we can trust?" Harry asked Hermione. "Preferably ones that work in the Ministry."

"Why them?" Neville asked.

"They've supported the Ministry even as new Blood laws are being passed. It either means that they're not an extremist or they've accepted it for what it is. Either way, the fact that they haven't packed up their desks and left means that they at least tacitly support the Ministry."

"Fair enough." Hermione replied. "Why not Tracey Davies?"

"Davies also works for International Cooperation."

"Damn."

"Theodore Nott?" Hermione asked.

"Father was a Death Eater." Harry replied. "That's another step I'm not taking."

"Fine." Hermione said, while what appeared to be physically racking her brain. "Marcus Flint?"

"Flint was dumber than dragon dung in school." Wood said, a look of disgust obvious on his face.

"So was Ron." Harry countered. "Now, Ron is doing some great work. Those masks we wore were his creation. Does anyone know what Flint is doing now?"

"Probably nothing. His family is exceedingly wealthy. Made a living a few centuries ago selling Muggles to slavers in Africa."

"So not Flint." Hermione snapped.

"Not Flint." Harry agreed.

For a few moments, no one talked as they each thought of the least offensive Slytherin they could come up with. Finally, Hermione had a suggestion.

"Daphne Greengrass."

"What about her?" Harry asked.

"She works for me at the Ministry. Well, technically not for me but when I need someone from the International Magical Office of Law, they send her. She's brilliant, almost as smart as I am as much as it pains me to say. She's Pureblood, a member of a highly regarded family."

"Yes, but how does her family treat half-bloods?"

"Well, her father just voted to pass the Blood Equality Act on the Wizengamot. He was one of the last holdovers. However, Daphne informed me herself that her father supported the act but wasn't going to vote in favor of it until he was sure that it was going to pass."

"Got to love politicians." Neville mused.

"Of course." Harry replied. "So the Greengrasses support blood equality. Do we know if its political or personal?"

"So far, every Pureblood I've met that has voted against equality has been doing it for personal reasons, either monetary or simply for bigotry's sake."

"She's good?"

"She's brilliant, Harry."

"I'll meet with her before I meet with Hannah." Harry said softly before turning to the rest of them. "We'll start with the two of them for right now. If you have any other ideas, let me know."

Within a few minutes, the rest of the team was gone, which allowed Harry to speak to Hermione.

"Spill it."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked honestly.

"There's something more with Greengrass, isn't there? Even if she is brilliant, and it's not like you to compliment someone that you don't really know like that, I sense another angle."

"Harry…."

"Hermione, you saw what I did to Rowle. You're the only person that saw that. If there's something in this that will make you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me."

"Fine." Hermione said as she collapsed into Harry's favorite chair. For a few moments, Harry thought she wasn't going to answer. Then, she spoke. "Astoria Greengrass was dating Malfoy."

"Forgive me for being blind but who is Astoria Greengrass?"

"Daphne's younger sister. She was two years behind us in school. She's finishing up her last year at Hogwarts in June."

"You want Daphne to spy for us."

"If that were the case, I wouldn't feel bad about asking her."

Suddenly, it became clear what Hermione's use for Daphne Greengrass was.

"You don't want to tell her. You want to bring her on the team, use her for her connections and get her to talk about her sister, which you hope will also lead you to Malfoy."

For a moment, Hermione hesitated. Then, without meeting Harry's eyes, she nodded.

"This isn't like you, Hermione." Harry said with concern as he kneeled next to where she sat. "This is something that I would do, but not you. You don't use people."

"So it's okay for you to be ruthless but not me?"

"Yes." Harry said shortly.

"Excuse me?"

"I can be ruthless because I am expendable. You can't because you're going to be Minister of Magic one day."

"You are not expendable, Harry."

"Maybe, maybe not but the truth of the matter is that you are certainly far more important to the success of our cause than I am at this point."

"Our cause?"

"Equality." Harry said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Sure, we go about it in two different ways but our end goal is the same: we want everyone to be able to live long and happy lives without anyone infringing upon that right. It doesn't matter to us if they're Muggle, Pureblood, Muggleborn or half-blood. It's what makes us different from them."

"Harry…."

"I will talk to Greengrass tomorrow morning. Hopefully, she will join our cause. But, I am going to lay it all out there for her to see. I'm going to be honest and I'm going to let her know that we like her for her intelligence but also for her connections. I'm going to do that because if someone did what you were suggesting we do to her, you would lose your mind."

"You're absolutely right." Hermione muttered.

"I know." Harry said with a grin as he stood. "There's a first for everything."

Harry waited in the office that was technically his deep in the bowels of the Ministry. When he had been given control of the Task Force, Kingsley had seen that he had an office at the Ministry that he could work out of.

This was now the second time that he had entered the room.

The first being when Kingsley showed it to him. Needless to say, it was not a space that Harry found to be particularly valuable.

But today, it would serve a purpose. Today, Harry would be able to create a safe space for two potential candidates for his task force. All morning, Harry had taken to reading the files on his two candidates and was not surprised by what he saw.

Each of them had been quickly advancing through their particular fields, although Hannah less so than Greengrass. Still, both were highly recommended for each of the promotions they had received and were certainly working their way towards another in the near future. However, Harry couldn't help but feel that Greengrass' connections were what got her to move up as quickly as she had.

Harry would certainly know soon.

Just a moment after Harry closed Greengrass' file, there was a knock on the door. Waving his wand, Harry opened the door to reveal Daphne Greengrass herself. She was quite tall with long blonde hair and eyes of ice. No one would have confused Daphne for a person that appeared to be particularly warm. Even her neutral expression was set somewhere between boredom and outright rejection.

Still, Harry could tell that she was putting on a good face. After all, the meeting had been set up by the Minister of Magic himself. There were people to impress.

"Daphne, please take a seat." Harry said, motioning to the seat across from him. "Can I get you tea or coffee?"

"No." was the only answer Harry got as she took her seat. Before Harry began, he observed the former Slytherin in front of him. Her posture was extreme, taking upright to the very edge of its meaning. She looked him directly in the eye and gave away no information about her. Not a single twitch of reaction to anything, it appeared.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Because I was asked by the Minister." Daphne replied curtly.

"Of course." Harry answered as he rolled his eyes. "But did he inform you why he wanted the two of us to meet?"

"He did not."

"He asked you to come here because I asked him. Now, being a member of the International Magical Office of Law, I'm certain that you have some idea what I've been doing recently."

"There are rumors."

"Could you expound upon these rumors?" Harry asked politely.

"I think not."

"Why not?"

"Because rumors, regardless of their possible validity, are a waste of my time."

Harry could see why Hermione would respect someone like Daphne Greengrass.

"Fair enough." Harry admitted before continuing. "These rumors would probably suggest something to the notion that I am leading a team in charge of hunting Death Eaters. These rumors are entirely true."

"They are?" Greengrass asked, betraying her emotions for the first time and looking genuinely surprised.

"We like the fact that the rumors are out there. We like the question of whether or not we're hunting Death Eaters. So far, I've found that it's done more for us than if we had simply confirmed or denied the existence of such a force."

"I can understand that logic."

"Good." Harry said before opening Daphne's file. "Now, Daphne, do you know why you're here?"

"There are two options. The first is that, because I am Pureblood, you suspect me of something. However, if that were the case, I think you would have been less forthcoming about the presence of any sort of task force. This can only lead me to the thought that you are offering me a place on your Task Force."

"You would be correct."

"I am surprised. I will, of course, say no."

"I doubt it." Harry replied confidently.

"What makes you believe that?"

"Because I believe you are more than what you seem, Daphne." Harry said as he moved towards the papers and parchment in front of him. "You have worked at the Ministry since graduation. You have been promoted four times already and appear to be well on your way to a fifth. Among your peers, you have the best performance reviews and your file is entirely devoid of any sort of warnings or demerits."

"What's your point?"

"My point, Daphne, is that it is very clear that you have ambitions. You have never turned down a promotion, even if it meant changing departments to do so. Whether it is a Department Head or the Minister's office, you will someday seek a high office. For all I know, you could simply take your money and pull the strings from the shadows. However, I don't think you'll do that."

"And why not?"

"Because you secretly have an agenda. Your father has been a voting member of the Wizengamot for nearly forty years. He has always had rather marginal support from Purebloods who considered his lack of traditional beliefs to be a point of weakness but he was never an ally to Muggleborns or half-bloods. Yet, when Hermione Granger bring the Blood Equality Act to the table, your father was one of the first to vote in the affirmative."

"My family has never been one to harbor feelings of superiority over those of a less than pure birth, Potter." Greengrass snapped, finally showing some real emotion. "The thought that simply because we must be extreme because we are Pureblood is weak, based in logical fallacies and often purely incorrect."

"You misunderstand me, Daphne." Harry said softly. "I believe that you and your family have always supported equality."

"What makes you say that?"

"The fact that there are a number of eyewitnesses who place you at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Of course, I was in school when it happened."

"Yes, but there are people who can place you there after Slytherin House was removed from the Great Hall. Almost the entirety of Slytherin was taken from the castle and transported to safety in Hogsmeade. So far, only Tracey Davis has publicly admitted to participating."

"What's so important about that?"

"She's your best friend." Harry replied knowingly.

"So she is. What would you say if I told you that I only entered the Battle to find her?"

"I would say that you are lying." Harry said as he looked down at her file. "I will say that a number of people saw you but one person in particular remembers you."

"Who?"

A smirk appeared on Harry's face as he answered.

"Minerva McGonagall. When she gave her testimony to the Wizengamot after the Battle, she listed everyone that she could remember under the acknowledged use of Veritaserum. She named you."

"She was mistaken. She believed that she had seen me and therefore told the truth, however incorrect it may be."

"If she were the only one, that may be one thing but several other reports place you inside the castle after the dismissal of Slytherin House, fighting against the Death Eaters."

Finally, it appeared as if Daphne had been beaten. Rather than continue to fight it, Daphne resigned herself to the fact that Harry was not going to give in.

"Fine." Daphne said firmly. "I re-entered the castle of my own accord and fought against the Death Eaters."

"Why?"

"Because Lord Voldemort was a monster who would destroy the world in attempting to seek the wizarding utopia he believed in."

"Good." Harry said with a satisfied smirk. "I want you to do that again."

"How? Why?" Daphne asked in quick succession.

"The how is simple. I am asking you to join my task force. The why is a little stickier."

"Why is that?"

"Because there are multiple reasons for my desire to have you on my team. Firstly, Hermione Granger speaks very highly of you, which is an endorsement of its own. Next, your employment record at the Ministry gives me the image of a bright witch. However, it is the final piece of the puzzle that is the one that you may find distasteful."

"And what would that be?"

"It is two-fold. Firstly, your status within the wizarding world's upper echelon is very much of use to me. Secondly, I value your sister's relationship with Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy died yesterday." Daphne said quickly. "Under suspicious circumstances in Glasgow."

"So he did." Harry said shortly.

"Did you have something to do with it?"

"If you're asking whether or not I had him killed, I did not. Any information beyond that is impossible for me to give without you agreeing to join our team."

Daphne looked at Harry sternly, as if she were trying to dissect him with her eyes.

"It's very simple, Daphne. My task force is going to be a boon for you and a great thing for our world if it is successful. I believe that you are a person who can help it become even more successful while also benefiting you greatly. Once this task force closes, it will be added to your official record with the recommending officers being myself, the Junior Assistant to the Minister and the Minister of Magic himself."

For another few moments, Daphne simply remained in her chair, staring at Harry. However, over the next few beats, she began to slowly sink into her chair, her eyes dragging to the floor.

"You would need me to get information from my sister."

"We would." Harry admitted. "To be clear, it is not your prime duty but every bit of information that we can get will help us. If you are unable to get anything of importance from Astoria, it will not reflect poorly upon the rest of your work with us."

That seemed to put Daphne at east. Eventually, she worked herself back into the erect position that she had taken when she had first sat down.

"In that case, I can see no reason why I wouldn't join."

"That's what I figured." Harry said softly. "Sign here."

With a quick magically binding signature, Daphne Greengrass had joined their team.

"And to answer your question, Malfoy was a part of my team and was killed by Dolohov during a skirmish. However, there is the possibility that he was double-crossing us. Therefore, we would like you to ask Astoria everything she knew about any strange meetings that Draco was taking after work or at his home."

"I can do that." Daphne confirmed.

"Good." Harry said softly. "In that case, you are free to go. We will meet again in the next few days. For now, you are to be on the lookout for any new information on the whereabouts of Dolohov's Death Eaters. We have the highest level of clearance from Kingsley so you can give me anything without worrying about breaking anyone's legal privilege."

"Understood." Daphne said as she stood. Turning, she made her way to the door before stopping just as her hand hit the handle. Facing back towards Harry, she spoke delicately. "We were wrong about you, Potter."

"We?"

"Slytherins."

"How so?"

"We thought that you were just muscle. Even those of us that didn't hate you didn't hold you to a very high standard."

"You shouldn't have. I wouldn't have held up to it."

"If that's the case, then you've certainly grown to become very competent."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment." Harry admitted.

"Harry, it is one of the highest compliments I know how to give." Daphne answered sharply before turning and marching out the door. The moment she left, Harry sank back into his seat. Hermione had been right. Daphne was sharp, prepared and ready for any possible counter-argument.

She would be perfect for their team.

Harry's second interview of the day was different than his first. Harry had no doubt of Hannah's character. She had been a charter member of Dumbledore's Army, she had never missed a meeting and she fought with Neville during the lost year at Hogwarts.

However, just because Neville spoke to her ability didn't mean that Harry was just going to take his word for it. So, much like how Harry had challenged Daphne's moral standing, Harry intended to challenge Hannah's skill.

So, when Hannah Abbott walked into the room, he was ready. Hannah was nothing like Daphne. Whereas Daphne was brief and rarely spoke more than she needed, Hannah was sociable and well-liked by all who met her. For nearly ten minutes, Harry spoke with Hannah about their daily lives, catching up from the time together in school.

Eventually, Harry was able to get her to talk about what he had brought her in for.

"Now, I'm sure you have a fairly good idea why I asked Neville to speak with you."

"Actually, no." Hannah admitted. "He just said that it was something about you and that he thought I was a good fit for what you were needing."

"OK." Harry said, shocked that there wasn't anyone in the country who hadn't at least heard of the rumors about his task force. "I am in charge of a Ministry-led task force tasked with bringing down the last remaining factions of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Recently, we've had an incident which led to the death of two of our team members. We are seeking two new people to replace them. I have already found one. I would like you to be the other."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Hannah." Harry replied seriously. "I think that you could do really wonderful things as a part of this team and you have Neville's endorsement, which means a lot."

"Neville suggested me?" Hannah asked, her face suddenly turning red. "What did he say?"

"That you stepped up in a big way during Snape's tenure at Hogwarts. He said that among the DA members who didn't fight at the Department of Mysteries, you showed the most improvement and were among his most trusted."

"Ah."

"What's the problem?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, there may have been a bias for Neville there." Hannah said suddenly. "We…..I mean, he and I…..things were very stressful then-"

"Did you and Neville date?"

"I mean, not really. There wasn't time to be dating when you were fighting for your life."

"I understand that." Harry countered.

"I mean obviously. But, we were….close."

"So you slept with him?"

"What!?" Hannah exclaimed. "Well, I mean yes but that's not the point! You can't ask that!"

"I can." Harry confirmed. "This task force is strictly off the books. I need to know that if I bring you on board, you are going to be able to handle yourself. Which is why I apologize for this."

"Well, I suppose if you're sorry for asking…."

"I wasn't apologizing for that." Harry said softly.

"Huh?"

In a flash, Harry stood and in one fluid motion, drew his wand and cast a silent Disarming Charm. Without fail, Hannah had a shield up and blocked the charm from coming even close to hitting her. Instinctively, Hannah fired a Stunner at Harry that he lazily blocked to the floor before raising his wand to the ceiling.

"Hannah!"

"What!?"

"It's okay." Harry said calmly as he found himself staring down the shaft of Hannah's wand. "I'm sorry."

"You tried to Disarm me!" Hannah shouted, her hand starting to shake. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Testing you." Harry said as he lowered his wand. "Neville vouched for your morale character and expressed great admiration for your defense skills. Unfortunately, I needed to see them for myself."

"So you tried to curse me!?"

"To be fair, you would have only lost your wand. You were the one that tried to Stun me."

"Because you tried to hit me first!"

Taking a deep breath, Hannah finally lowered her wand and took her seat, the shaking in her hands getting worse. Reaching into his pocket, Harry grabbed a chocolate bar and placed it on the table in front of her.

"Eat. It will help you with the nerves."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Harry said as he sat. "Are you okay?"

"The last time I raised my wand to someone else was at Hogwarts." Hannah said, her voice losing most of its color. Now, she sounded afraid, weak. "I watched friends die that day. I killed a Death Eater by dropping a boulder on her head. I couldn't sleep for weeks. I just kept flashing images of that woman, blood pouring from her skull as she laid there."

Leaning forward, Harry took her hands in his.

"You aren't the only one who deals with that." Harry admitted. "I have dreams like that all the time."

"But you're Harry Potter." Hannah said with a dark chuckle. "You had the weight of the world on your shoulders. I'm just me."

"That doesn't matter." Harry said softly. "The weight that I carried was no more or less than the burden you carried. You made the decision to end someone's life to protect those that you loved. That is an immensely hard thing to do."

"OK."

Leaning back his chair, Harry was pleased to see some of the color returning to Hannah's cheeks. Had he known about her trauma, he would have refrained from the surprise test. But now he knew more about her than he would have if he had let her know it was coming.

"Hannah, your skills are still fantastic. You responded quickly with wonderful form and instinctive decision-making. We would be lucky to have someone like you on our team."

"OK." Hannah said softly. "I would love to."

Suddenly, the door to his office came flying open. In a blur, both Hannah and Harry stood, raising their wands at the door. However, what stood beyond the door was not a threat.

At least not to Hannah.

"Hannah, I'll contact you tomorrow." Harry said, his voice low and forceful. Quickly, Hannah grabbed her things and left, leaving Harry alone with the intruder.

"Ginny, what the hell are you doing here?"

Standing in the door was Ginny Weasley, who looked more like herself than she had in recent weeks.

Which also meant that she looked irate.

"I thought we could have a chat, Harry."

"We can." Harry said, sitting down calmly in hopes that he could de-escalate whatever had caused Ginny to be so upset. "Sit."

"I'll stand."

"Then we won't talk." Harry said firmly. "You bust into my office like some sort of burglar and demand a conversation with me. The least you can do is sit down."

For a moment, Harry had thought he had pressed too hard. Instead, Ginny huffed deeply and then sat in the seat where Hannah had been moments earlier.

"Talk." Harry said shortly.

"When were you going to tell me that you're running a task force in charge of taking down the rest of the Death Eaters?"

"Sometime around the time I was done with it and legally allowed to talk about it."

"You've told Ron."

Instantly, Harry knew where she had gotten this information.

"I have." Harry admitted. "It was the only thing that kept me from going with him to South America to get you."

"But you told him."

"I told him so that he didn't think I was making up some sort of pathetic excuse about why I didn't want to get you."

"Which you probably would have done anyway."

"That's beside the point, Ginny. I had a legitimate excuse and a responsibility here."

"What about your responsibility to your friends?"

Instantly, Harry sought to break the conversation from that line of thinking.

"Why don't you tell me what you're actually upset about?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Why didn't you ask me to be on the task force?"

"You're seriously upset about that?" Harry asked dismissively.

"Yes!" Ginny shouted. "You could have used me!"

"How? When I started the task force, you were in Brazil or Argentina or wherever the hell you were! When you got back, you were in no shape to help me!"

"Yes, because you are in the best mental state, Potter!" Ginny roared, standing and coming within inches of Harry's face. "You were just trying to push me out!"

"Ginny, I was trying to negate the fact that we already had one head case on my team. I didn't need another." Harry said, trying to explain himself for something he didn't feel he should have actually had to explain.

"So I'm a head case now!?"

"Yes, Ginny, you are." Harry replied evenly.

"What gives you the right to say that?"

"Because I'm one!" Harry bellowed, standing to tower over Ginny. Finally, the tension in the room broke as the two of them stared at each other. Harry turned and made his way to the far end of the room, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "We've had this conversation, Ginny. Neither of us are in a good place right now. The last thing you need is to be chasing Death Eaters."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you aren't built like me." Harry said softly. "You've never been afraid to live life for yourself. You've done what you wanted because it made you happy. I've always envied that. I wish I could live like that sometimes. But I also realize that it's not what makes me happy."

"What does?"

"Making others happy." Harry whispered. "Knowing that the work that I do is making the world safer for those that I love makes me happy. Sure, it's stressful but it's what I know and love."

After that, silence fell between the two of them as neither looked at the other. In the end, the silence was broken not by either of them but by the door opening once again. This time, it was George Weasley standing on the other side of the door.

"Ginny." George said firmly.

"Get out of here, George."

"Ginny, I want you to go back to my flat." George said, the words coming out almost as an order. For a moment, Ginny glared at George before sighing to herself. Turning back to Harry, Ginny spoke.

"I'll see you around."

"Yeah." was all Harry could say in reply.

Looking away, Harry waited for the door to close. Turning around, Harry expected to be alone. Instead, George had remained behind and sat in Harry's chair, facing away from where Harry stood. Taking a deep breath, Harry turned and moved back to the other chair in the room where he took a seat.

"I am sorry about that." George said earnestly. "I don't know what's gotten into her."

"She's feeling better." Harry said with a smirk. "And she's feeling useless."

"She's not the only one, Harry." George said knowingly. "I've basically passed much of the business to Ron and Verity recently."

"Why?"

"I don't get any joy out of it, Harry. It's a constant reminder of Fred. I'm glad that we still bring happiness to others but it just doesn't do it for me anymore."

For some reason, Harry had a strange suspicion that George had not come here to get Ginny.

At least not entirely.

"George, why are you here?"

"To get Ginny. She had been at my place when Ron let slip that you were working to catch Dolohov."

Harry didn't believe him for a moment. "George, I'm going to ask one more time: why are you here?"

Clearly, George knew that he was busted. Readjusting himself in the chair awkwardly, George refused to meet Harry's eyes for a moment. Finally, he looked up at Harry and spoke honestly.

"I want to help." George said softly.

"George…."

"Hear me out." George interrupted quickly. "I know that I'm probably not your first choice."

"Or my second."

"Or your second." George agreed. "However, I think you know that I can be helpful. You know that I'm talented, maybe not conventionally but still talented. I'm already largely absentee within my own stores so no one will notice that I'm gone."

"George!" Harry shouted to interrupt. "Why do you want to help?"

"Huh?"

"You say you want to help. I know that you could be very helpful. But why?"

"Are you serious?"

"If you are serious about wanting this, then you better be damned sure. That means I need to know. This can't be about vengeance, George. This has to be about making things better. I've already had my own personal brush with revenge. It's not pretty, it's not legal and it puts us in weak positions. If I'm going to even begin to consider this, then I need to know that you aren't asking for this just so that you can kill Death Eaters."

For a few moments, George thought to himself. When he was ready, he spoke softly and deliberately.

"I know only one other set of twins in my life."

"The Patils."

"Yeah." George agreed tentatively. "Being a twin is an experience that I can't even begin to describe, Harry. It's like having someone inside of your mind and body at all times. You can either reject it or embrace it. From the earliest of ages, Fred and I embraced everything that came with being a twin, losing a bit of ourselves to be Fred and George."

A single tear escaped from George's eye as he spoke. Taking a deep breath, George composed himself and continued. "To have that taken away from you is another experience I can't explain. This connection that we had built up for an entire life was just gone. Now, everyday things that had been unconscious parts of our daily lives were challenging. Having a conversation with someone is a challenge now. Rather Fred and I bouncing the conversation off of each other, it's just me, left to handle this one on one conversation alone."

Abruptly, George stood and paced back and forth as he spoke. "I don't want Padma or Parvati to feel that same feeling. I don't think of myself as some great Dark wizard chaser, Harry. But this is personal. These monsters will destroy families, sever connections and spread their message of hate until we can bring them in. They have to be stopped. If they're not, there will be more people like me. If they're not, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters, they'll all know what it's like to lose someone that became a part of themselves."

Finally, George turned back to Harry, a blazing look in his eyes that Harry had seen during Ginny's best times.

"I'm not doing this for myself, Harry. I've already resigned myself to the fact that I might feel like this forever. I want this so that no one else has to feel the same way that I do."

Harry couldn't help but smile. Despite the fact that they had been clowns in the flesh, Harry had forgotten just how much Fred and George had meant to him. They were his older brothers, supportive of him to the end.

Standing, Harry moved to George.

"You are responsible for telling Ginny. If you don't tell her, there's no place for you."

"Absolutely." George replied as he realized what had just happened. Eagerly, Harry stuck his hand out for George.

"Welcome to the team, George."


	21. Chapter 21

The next morning, Harry and Hermione sat down at their kitchen table. They spoke briefly about the interviews that Harry had done the previous day and their result. While Hermione was not particularly pleased that he had allowed George to join them, she relented when Harry explained George's reasoning.

The fact that Harry believed that George had been completely honest was enough to sway her to his line of thinking.

However, it was the next thing that Harry told her that really surprised Hermione. For weeks, Harry had been reading Snape's journal with a thought in the back of his mind. In the last year, he had revisited the Riddle house, the graveyard in Little Hangleton and the remains of Malfoy Manor.

But there was one location that he had never visited and it was specifically important to Harry as it related to the fateful Halloween that his parents had been killed.

"I'm going to Albania." Harry whispered.

"What?" Hermione said in shock.

"I'm going to Albania." Harry repeated. "I leave this afternoon."

"Why?"

"I need to see where he went after he killed my parents. I've seen every other location that he associated with."

"Harry, I understand that you may want to do this but is now the time?"

"I can't think of a better time," he replied. "If we end up beating Dolohov, then we'll have stopped Riddle's legacy from gaining any sort of traction."

"I don't understand how that even comes close to answering my question."

"I have gotten better in recent months, Hermione, because I felt useful. I had a purpose again. If I'm going to continue that after we beat Dolohov, then I need closure. The final part of that closure is seeing Riddle for all of what he was and that includes his time in Albania. Once I've done that, I will have seen what he was at every point of his life. Seeing the entirety of his life and knowing the means that he used to ensure his legacy, seeing all that and knowing that we stopped it….I think that will finally let me move on once we're done with Dolohov."

For a few moments, Harry thought that Hermione was going to argue with him again. Certainly this was a bit selfish, leaving as they were starting to close in on Dolohov. But Harry felt that he needed this to focus in on the end.

Finally, Hermione just placed a hand on his and smiled.

"Then go. But come back quickly and be safe."

"I will." Harry grinned.

Later in the afternoon, Harry arranged for Floo transport to the Albanian Ministry building. Despite having been out of the public life for nearly two years now, Harry found that his arrival was still quite an event for the country that had secretly housed Tom Riddle in exile.

As Harry stepped through the fireplace into the Albanian Atrium, he was greeted by a crowd of nearly one hundred people, most of them doing their best Aunt Petunia impressions by craining their necks to get a better look at him. Thankfully, there was a blockade of Ministry workers to keep the crowd from getting to him.

Standing closer to him was a woman that had to be nearly Professor McGonagall's age. She was short and rather squat with a very jovial appearance as she grinned at Harry. Stepping forward, Harry extended his hand towards her.

"Hello. My name is Harry Potter."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. My name is Ajkuna Curri. I am Minister for Magic here in Albania." she said slowly. Harry could tell that she had practiced her English. She spoke deliberately to ensure that each syllable was placed properly. "This is our head Majistar, Admir Dushku."

If there were two people who could have been any different, Ajkuna and Admir were those people. In contrast to Ajkuna's short frame and cheerful demeanor, Admir was the exact opposite. Standing well over six feet tall, he was skinnier than a rail and his face appeared to be permanently creased into a scowl.

"Mr. Potter." he said, his voice smooth and heavily accented. "Welcome."

"Thank you." Harry answered.

"Follow to office." he growled before turning, not looking to see if Harry was actually following. Quickly, Harry and Ajkuna fell in line behind the taller man, following him a short distance to his small office. Not surprisingly, the office was almost entirely free of any clutter or personal possession. Admir appeared to be a man of an extreme professional nature and that reflected in every way of his life.

"Sit." Admir said, his tone almost an order. "Minister Curri tell me you wish to visit dark forest."

"I do."

"Why?"

"Do you know what was in that forest about ten years ago?"

"Demon." It was clear that Harry wasn't going to be able to get Admir to talk much. "People go to forest. They come back different."

"Different how?"

At this, Minister Curri stepped forward to speak.

"Older with no memory of the last several days." she interjected. "We had people entering the woods who were in their twenties that would come back looking as if they were in their fifties."

"Did you ever identify this demon?" Harry asked.

"No." Admir replied firmly.

"Majistar Dusku was in charge of the investigation into the forest for nearly eight years. We were never able to find any proof of anything. There were obviously the people coming out of the forest but there were the stories of a place deep in the woods were snakes covered the ground like grass. Trees died and shriveled up in the area within weeks of the demon entering the area."

"Well, I have some good news and some bad news then."

For about the next hour, Harry explained the circumstances around Tom Riddle's spectre and how it came to rest in Albania. He left out some of the darkest details but the gist of the story was certainly relayed. Occasionally, the Minister would have to translate something that Harry said in Albanian to Admir.

By then, Harry could see only the vaguest of expressions on Admir's face. Finally, he turned to Harry.

"Dark Lord was ghost?"

"Not really." Harry said uncertainly. "Something more than a ghost but less than living."

"I not understand."

"Neither do I, really."

"You still wish to visit place?"

"I do."

"We will arrange a Porkey for you." Minister Curri said swiftly. "From there, you will be on your own. For most of our citizens, the location is considered haunted, cursed even. No one will go with you. You will have one hour and then the Portkey will activate again and take you back to the Atrium where you will be able to Floo home."

"Perfect."

"This is acceptable?" Admir asked, obviously not quite understanding what Minister Curri had said.

"Yes, Admir." Harry said. "Thank you for arranging this."

Feeling that familiar pull from behind his navel, Harry landed firmly on the ground in the middle of a dense wooded area. Harry was already far enough into the woods that the sun was struggling to penetrate the thick cover overhead.

Thankfully, Harry was given relatively simply instruction: walk straight forward about one kilometer and he would be where he wanted. The rough terrain meant that it was slow going but as he got closer to his destination, it became very obvious he was that he was heading in the right direction.

Even almost a full decade after Riddle abandoned the area, the aftermath of his ten year isolation remained. Every few feet there was the long abandoned corpse of some animal, its bones left to rot in the dirt. The trees were all in some state of nearly dead or completely dead with a number of them fallen to the ground, giving the area the distinct feeling as some sort of haunted graveyard.

However, it wasn't until Harry reached the epicenter of the Riddle's retreat that Harry understood the devastation that the Dark Lord had reaped upon the area. There were literally thousands of dead snakes littering the ground, their bodies unnaturally preserved considering they had been there for nearly a decade. The trees were all dead and appeared to have been drained of their life force entirely as they lay thin and weak.

Not even the sounds of the forest penetrated the area. No animals came near, not even the birds in the sky.

In fact, the only word that Harry could think of to describe the feeling of the area was isolation. The entire area was simply devoid of anything that could be considered living.

But there was one spot that was the worst of all. The ground there was permanently black, looking as if it had been burned to the bedrock. If you had lacked context for the area, you could have assumed that some sort of explosion had happened.

Maybe a meteorite hitting the ground.

But Harry knew better. He knew that the this is where the spectre of Tom Marvolo Riddle had rested for all those years, waiting for someone to find him deep in the woods.

Suddenly, the wind whipped up around Harry and a chill ran down his spine. Drawing his wand, Harry waited for whatever defense Riddle had set up.

Instead, the forest itself began to speak.

And it spoke in a voice that Harry thought he would never hear again.

At least not while he was awake.

"Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived…"

The fact that Riddle's defense had recognized him was disconcerting to say the least. Still, Harry knew that he needed to defeat whatever this was.

"You come here seeking….peace." the disembodied voice of Lord Voldemort taunted. "But there will never be peace for you, boy. You will spend the rest of your days searching for a peace that you will never find."

Suddenly, right before his eyes, images of his mother and father appeared. Both lay dead on the ground in front of him, their vacant eyes boring into Harry's. Despite the fact that Harry knew that this was just some sort of magical mind trick, Harry could help but stare at the illusion in front of him.

"They are dead because of you, Harry. All of them."

Then, the number of bodies multiplied. Cedric, Tonks, Lupin and countless others joined the bodies of his parents, all of them looking less spectral and more corporeal.

And all of them stared at Harry as if pleading for their help.

"You may have killed my body, Harry. But my soul will live on forever…...in you. You housed a part of me for nearly seventeen years. You may have destroyed the soul but its effects remain and it will continue to influence you. Who knows? Maybe one day you will finish the work that I started."

"Enough." Harry whispered.

"Maybe one day, Harry, I will be looked at as the calm before the real storm. You know it's true. All you have to do is give in to that power, Harry. Give in and the world will be yours."

"ENOUGH!"

This time, the voice stopped because as Harry shouted, he released an unconscious wave of magical energy that exploded away from him, causing all of the trees within fifteen feet of him to topple away from him.

"I'm not you." Harry said, suddenly feeling more at peace than he had felt in years. "You may have been a part of me for years. But you aren't anymore. I've learned what it's like to be you and I don't want it."

"Harry…."

"You don't hold any power over me anymore, Tom."

"Har-"

"Goodbye."

With that, Harry turned and made his way out of the forest and back to the Portkey. Within just a few minutes, Harry was back to the Ministry and then back to England.

A quick Patronus let Hermione know that he was back in the country and that he had one more stop to make before he would be home.

With a turn, Harry left the British Ministry behind and found himself standing in the alley behind a church in Godric's Hollow. Quickly, Harry stepped out from behind the church and entered the graveyard.

The last time he had been there, he had to search for their names.

This time, he knew exactly where he was going. Standing before his parents again, Harry remembered the last time he had been there. He had felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness even with Hermione standing next to him.

But things were different now. For the first time in months, Harry felt a peace that he hadn't experienced in years. Even in the days following Riddle's death, he had the weight of the hundreds of deaths on his shoulders.

Now, with some distance from that, maybe he could put things right for himself along with the rest of the wizarding world.

A slight pop behind him let Harry know that someone had joined him. Normally, Harry would have been on edge. But there was only one person that knew where he had been and where he would go.

"How was it?" Hermione asked as she approached.

"Enlightening." Harry replied. "It looked as if the world died but only in this one small space. He literally sapped the life out of part of the forest."

"That's horrible."

"It is." Harry admitted. "But it also gave me hope. Because none of us would ever go that far to cling to life. The fact that we would rather let life slip away than destroy the world around us to ensure that we keep on living, that's something to be proud of."

"You seem lighter." Hermione noted.

"Just calmer." Harry replied. "I've realized that who I am and who I want to be may finally be close to the same person. It's just taken me awhile to figure it out."

"That's great, Harry." Hermione smiled.

For a few minutes, the pair simply stood there, each of them inside their own minds.

"Did you ever think of leaving?" Harry asked.

"Leaving? Leaving where?"

"Leaving magic. Leaving wizards and witches and all of that behind."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I did." Harry admitted sheepishly. "And more than just when I told you and Ron I wanted to leave England. Just after the war, I thought about taking some time away. I kept saying that it wouldn't have been permanent. Just spend a couple of years working and living in the Muggle world."

"Why didn't you do it?"

"Because I don't think I would have come back."

"Really?"

"Not then. Maybe with some time apart, I would have fixed myself and gotten through it but I'm not certain. I think part of the reason that I've gotten to the place that I am today is because I've had you and I've forced myself to face my demons rather than hide from them."

"You think if you had hidden away in the Muggle world, you would have simply run away from all the things that you felt guilty over."

"I know I would have. Hell, I tried to do it staying inside our world."

"I'm proud of you, Harry." Hermione said, leaning closer to his ear. "If you had told me a year ago that this is what you would look like, I would have thought you were crazy."

"You thought I was crazy two months ago."

"You were torturing prisoners, Harry! Of course I thought you were crazy!"

"Yeah, well, darkest before the dawn, right?"

"Here's hoping."

June 30, 1997

After nearly a year of begging, Dumbledore has finally revealed his plan to me. Nevermind the Unbreakable Vow that I had made nearly a year earlier that required me to kill him. In the minutes before he intended to leave the castle with Potter on some unknown quest, he told me.

At first, I thought he must have been joking. There is no way that the old fool would have allowed Potter to be murdered in cold blood for his cause, regardless of some stupid prophecy. But as he explained just what Voldemort had done to ensure his immortality (some of which I was already aware of in my duties as his scribe), I realized that it made sense.

Potter had to die for Voldemort to be defeated. For some reason, Dumbledore was adamant on the fact that Voldemort himself must do it.

In the end, why would it matter? Potter would be dead and with the prophecy fulfilled, someone would be able to kill the monster that Tom Riddle had become.

As I watch Dumbledore and Potter depart, my mind once again goes to her. For years, I have risked my life to spy on the darkest wizard of all time. I did this for all for her. To hell with Potter or Dumbledore. If not for the eternal debt that I owe to her for the pain that I caused her both in life and death, I would have left the world to its devices.

I have long come to understand that Potter has developed some of the prodigious skill that his mother would have left him. While his mental focus lacks in every possible way, his raw ability does outshine the rest of his peers. If only he had been born with more of her grace, I would have been able to tolerate him.

However, I have come to understand something about myself: it doesn't matter that he may be more talented than I ever gave him credit for. Regardless of that minor fact, I still despise him with every fiber of my being. To others, this would seem petty. But others don't live knowing that their greatest love sided with your greatest enemy because of one childhood mistake.

Still, I will do my duty and see that Potter does his. I see no future for myself in either case.

A small postscript was written at the bottom of the page. A hole torn in the page let Harry know just how quickly it was written.

It is done. I granted the old man's last wish. Without him, the Ministry will surely fall in months. From there, we are left with only the hope that Granger will push Potter enough to save the world.

Harry was nearly ten hours into further research for the next team meeting when Hermione finally got home. It was well after midnight and Harry could tell that the hours between her regular job and her time on Harry's task force were taking its toll on her. He had even mentioned to her that she should take some time away from the task force for her own sake.

Needless to say, that did not go over very well.

So, when Harry saw that she looked tired, he instantly put his things away to be there for her. Thankfully, some of the pieces for Harry's investigation were finally starting to coalesce. It seemed that in the days before meeting with Dolohov, Alecto Carrow had done the same with Augustus Rookwood in Azkaban.

While there had been an impressive amount of reforms to the island castle, it had come at a cost. In an attempt to go the opposite direction as the terror that had been Azkaban Island before the end of the war, Azkaban had been reformed as an open air reformatory.

Now, all prisoners were given a single cell in a building of its own on one end of the island. The rest of the island was magically warded with some of the most impressive magic Harry had ever even heard of. A team of privately provided Hit Wizards provided security and had complete oversight over the operation.

Unfortunately, this seemed to mean that they could be bribed now that Harry had discovered proof that Carrow had made her way onto the island to visit Rookwood.

When Harry expressed this opinion to Hermione, she did not seem surprised.

"It was something that I've been thinking about for awhile now."

"What is?"

"We have heard almost nothing from Lestrange in months." Hermione whispered, biting on her lip as the most obvious sign that she was thinking. "No one has attempted to break Rookwood out and even Dolohov's actionable offenses have dwindled since the task force began."

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that either Dolohov somehow convinced the other two that they should work for him or that someone convinced all three of them to work together."

"Some sort of dark overseer?"

"Not likely." Hermione replied. "I doubt that it's someone pulling all the strings behind the scenes. Instead, I imagine someone who they all would trust who could convince them to stop fighting amongst themselves and target us instead."

"But they haven't targeted us." Harry fired back. "There hasn't been a serious attack from any of the Death Eaters in months."

"That doesn't mean they aren't targeting us, Harry. That just means they haven't attacked yet."

That thought terrified Harry. While the question had always remained why the Death Eaters had gone to ground, part of Harry had hoped that they had been too busy fighting each other underground to surface and fight the Ministry.

But the more he thought about it, the more likely it was that Hermione was right.

"Do we have anything new?" Harry asked as Hermione leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, nearly dozing off instantly.

"Daphne said she had some intel to share at tomorrow's meeting." Hermione said, her words slurring together as she struggled to stay awake. "I also got a letter from McGonagall for you."

"For me?"

"Yeah, she wants to meet with you tomorrow before our meeting."

"Where?"

"Where else?"

"Great."

It would be a great challenge of Harry's mental state. He couldn't refuse the meeting. Minerva McGonagall was one of the greatest witches alive and was probably the most popular person in the country after Hermione and Kingsley.

Plus, he hadn't seen her since he had been at Hogwarts last and he had made a fool out of himself and the entire Ministry that day.

So, as Harry carried the now asleep Hermione into her room, his mind was focused on only one thing.

He was going to Hogwarts in the morning.

All night, Harry tossed and turned, barely sleeping for more than an hour at a time. Eventually, Harry gave up and got out of bed before Transfiguring it back into the living room couch. For nearly an hour, Harry sat with a cup of hot tea, staring out the window as the sun slowly rose over the horizon of a calmer London. Eventually, the rest of the world caught up and Harry was able to watch as the cityscape got busier and busier.

Hermione woke, dressed and left without saying much of anything to Harry. Personally, he thought that she knew how stressed he was and that any attempt to comfort him may have been seen as less than helpful. Instead, she simply wished him luck and then Apparated.

Finally, after an hour of preparation, it was time for him to move. Standing from his chair, dressed in his best day robes, Harry turned in place. Landing just off the main street of Hogsmeade, Harry was shocked by how frigid it was. Nowhere on the British Isles was warm in the middle of January but the northernmost area of Scotland was particularly bad.

Wrapping his cloak in front of his face to keep out as much of the cold as possible, Harry pressed towards the castle. For nearly thirty minutes, he trudged against wind that somehow seemed to be pressing against him no matter the direction he faced. Finally, he approached the front gate of the school and knocked. Without hesitation, the doors swung open and Harry was greeted with the sight of the Entrance Hall.

As Harry shook out his cloak, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth rush over his body that had absolutely nothing to do with the change in temperature. The sight of Hogwarts, whole once more, warmed him to the very core of his soul. The last two times Harry had seen the castle, it had been destroyed to an almost unrecognizable state and he had been too drunk to appreciate the changes.

However, the sight of the castle couldn't compare to the sight of the woman in front of him. Ever the sign of a stable Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall stood tall, even as the cane in her hand gave a sign that she was aging.

Harry stood firm as the new Headmistress creeped towards him, her step more uncertain than before. Finally, she reached Harry, her hands resting on the cane in front of her. Harry extended a hand before her, attempting to greet her as one would on business.

For several moments, Professor McGonagall stared at his hand, a range of emotions flickering through her normally hardened face. Harry could hardly stand the tension as he held his hand there like a fool.

Finally, the aged witch looked up at Harry, a wry smile plastered on her face.

"Mr. Potter, is that any way to greet me?"

"Professor?" Harry muttered. The last time he had seen her, he had been less than pleasant. For a moment, there was a fear that he was going to reject his greeting entirely. Instead, Professor McGonagall took her cane and pushed Harry's hand aside, leaning forward to embrace her former pupil.

To say that Harry was surprised was an understatement of the highest order. Despite the fact that she always cleared cared for her students, Professor McGonagall had never been one to express those feelings so blatantly. Harry eventually accepted the fact that he wasn't dreaming and hugged her in return, silently thankfully that she hadn't tried to hex him.

Eventually, the pair separated and Professor McGonagall motioned for Harry to follow her.

"Professor?"

"In a moment, Potter." Professor McGonagall cut him off. "And it's Minerva now, Potter."

"Then it's Harry to you, Minerva." Harry replied courteously.

"Not on your life." Minerva replied haughtily with a deep chuckle.

Minerva led Harry to a secret staircase just off the Entrance Hall. Within seconds, the pair of them were walking out from behind a staircase and into the Headmistress' office.

If Dumbledore had been fond of random trinkets and magical oddities, McGonagall favored a more practical decorating sense. Instead of the Deluminator and its companions, the bookshelves in the office were now being use for the intended purpose: the storage of massive volumes on any number of magical subjects. Harry smirked as he looked at the books knowing just how jealous Hermione would be when he told her about them.

"Sit, Potter." Minerva ordered.

Following her direction, Harry took the seat that he had most commonly occupied when Dumbledore had been across from him. Instead, he looked across to see his old Transfiguration professor looking back at him.

"How are you, Potter?"

"Better." Harry admitted weakly.

"You don't sound better." Minerva mocked, a twinkle in her eye that Dumbledore would have been proud of that let Harry know that she was simply pulling his leg.

"Well then, I will aim to do better, Professor."

"Minerva." she corrected in an instant.

"Minerva." Harry agreed before settling into his seat for something that had been a long time coming. "Professor-"

"Minerva."

"Minerva," Harry corrected hastily. "I need to apologize."

"For what?"

"For my behavior at the dedication ceremony."

"Why do you feel the need to apologize to me?" Minerva questioned. "I'm not one of the dead."

"No, but after the war, you were one of my biggest supporters among the living. You don't think I remember how often you were quoted expressing that you believed every word that came out of my mouth? I took that and spat on it with my behavior."

Minerva smirked at Harry, readjusting her hands resting position on the cane in front of her.

"My dear boy," she started, absentmindedly stealing a term from her predecessor. "I always knew that you would come back around. When you've lived as long as I have, you've seen almost everyone go through a period of darkness. But when you've lived as long as I, you've also seen those that came back out."

"And you knew that I would?"

"You forget that I knew both of your parents, Potter." Minerva gently reminded him. "Your mother was as lovely a person as I remember. Your father may have been a prankster but there was no question that he cared about those that he loved, your mother in particular. You are their child to the end. In the end, despite how much you hurt, I always anticipated you returning because your love for the rest of the world can't be bottled up. It's too pure."

"You sound like Dumbledore."

"Despite his rather large faults, he was an exceptionally brilliant man."

"I suppose that is true." Harry muttered.

For a few moments, the pair sat in silence as Minerva seemed to observe Harry intensely. Eventually, Harry broke eye contact, uncomfortable with the level of scrutiny that he was being placed under.

"I imagine you're wondering why I asked you here." Minerva eventually noted.

"A little."

"Last week, I was speaking with Neville. As you no doubt know, Neville is finishing his apprenticeship this year and will be taking over as Herbology professor in the fall."

"I'm aware."

"Are you also aware that Neville attends a weekly meeting that he believes I do not know about?"

"Listen, Minerva-"

"I do not care where he is going, Potter. In fact, I imagine it is better if I don't know where is going, much like your time during school."

"I'd say so."

"Anyway, I was speaking with Neville last week. I was telling him about my misfortune that after only two years, I will be replacing my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Really? Who was it again?"

"Penelope Clearwater." Minerva replied. "She and Mr. Weasley are to be married in the fall. After that, she is taking a position as Headmaster of a small academy in Spain. As Percy has not yet publically announced that he will be leaving his position, I ask that you please keep this to yourself."

"Of course."

"Anyway, upon informing Mr. Longbottom of my problem, he instantly suggested someone. Could you possibly guess who that could be?"

It had long become obvious the reasoning behind Minerva's request for his presence. Even if Harry hadn't caught the rather obvious leading of the conversation towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, he had sensed that Minerva had some sort of ulterior motive to asking him there. If it hadn't been Defense Against the Dark Arts, then there really wasn't another subject that Harry was qualified to teach. Knowing that he had to hear what she had to say, Harry nodded and simply waited for what was to come.

"He seems to think that you would do a good job, Potter." Minerva commented intensely. "However, I do have some concerns about even offering you the position."

"I can't say that I'm surprised." Harry said dryly.

"Good." Minerva snapped suddenly. "That's the first thing that I need to see: social awareness."

"Professor, I've never not been socially aware." Harry countered. "I just stopped caring so much about what the world thinks about me."

"That will need to change for you to be considered."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked cautiously.

"You will need to be seen as someone that is dependable, Harry. This means that the parents of our students need to trust you. To be honest, I don't believe that is the current perception."

"Then how can you hire me at all?" Harry questioned.

"Because you are still you. If anything, you may not be trusted for your behavior but you will be trusted for your knowledge and your ability." Minerva informed him. "If you do this, you will do this right. This will not be a side job for anyone. While I expect that your expertise on dark wizards will still remain valuable to the Ministry, this is your priority. If that is ever not the case, you can consider yourself dismissed."

Harry didn't know what to say in response. Never had he truly considered teaching at Hogwarts. He had enjoyed school, he had even considered it a home. But life had always seemed to point him in the direction of being an Auror.

But a small flicker of light burned in the back of Harry's mind. Why not? Why not take all of the information that he knew and put it to good use? He had learned much during his brief exile, both in the form of continued training and study in the Black Library. If there was anyone that had the training and the experience to teach at Hogwarts, it was him.

To be honest, it was Hermione Granger but after her, it was him.

"I never took my NEWTs. I technically never finished school."

"All you would need to do is take the practical examination." Minerva explained slowly. "If you pass it within a certain margin, I already have assurances from the Department of Magical Education that they will waive the need for you to take the paper examination."

"When can I take it?" Harry said, speaking so quickly he could barely get the words out. The more Harry considered this as his future, the more the thought excited him. It would allow him to stay in the field that he was best at without the necessary risk of being cursed all the time.

"Next Saturday morning."

"Sounds great." Harry beamed.

"I'm glad." Minerva replied, a smile gracing her face before it waned slightly. "However, there is something else that I wish to discuss with you. In preparation for this meeting, I gauged your interest with several of your former classmates."

"Who?"

"Neville and Hermione firstly. Then, I spoke with each of the Weasleys you went to school with, Percy included. Finally, I spoke with Ms. Lovegood, Ms. Chang, Ms. Bones, Ms. Bell and Ms. Johnson."

"Why them?"

"Because they are some of the only people who you may still consider friends. But, for who you are not particularly close to anymore, they also provide a reference of your previous educational experience."

"Dumbledore's Army." Harry reasoned aloud.

"Correct. They all spoke very highly of your skill, especially considering the circumstances that you were forced into. However, each of them mentioned, independently I might add, something that I think we all know about you, Mr. Potter, but tend to forget."

"What's that?" Harry asked, honestly curious as to what the answer would be.

"Your leadership and ability to coordinate people. Each of them talked about how you would frequently partner stronger students with weaker ones, allowing them to teach themselves while you gave occasional pointers and large group instruction. Without this thought process, there is a strong likelihood you would have created a dichotomy within your group between the stronger and weaker students. Instead, you allowed your stronger students to assist in developing your weaker ones, making the entirety of Dumbledore's Army stronger as a result. This one decision was likely essential during the Battle of Hogwarts. Without the students you trained, we would have lost the castle before you had time to locate the last artifact."

"How much do you know about…...about them?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"Enough." Minerva replied, her eyes floating to the portrait over her right shoulder where Dumbledore slept. For the entirety of their conversation, Harry had the lingering feeling that Dumbledore was feigning sleep to listen.

After all, it would have been a very Dumbledore thing to do.

"Anyway, the conversation on your leadership ability lead me to my other point: assuming you pass your practical examination, you are willing to accept the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

"I am." Harry replied breathlessly, hardly believing the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Would you also be willing to accept the post of Headmaster-in-waiting?"

The cogs in Harry's brain malfunctioned terribly as Minerva finished her question. Surely, she couldn't have said what she had just said.

"Pardon me?"

"You are too young to be hard of hearing, Potter." Minerva replied shortly. "Would you accept the post or not?"

"I'm sure that there are much better candidates, Minerva." Harry answered courteously.

"Not true." Minerva countered. "I have gone to great lengths to ensure that the quality of my staff here at Hogwarts is top of the line. As a result, I've found myself looking at a staff of almost entirely new instructors. Not that our previous staff were weak by any standard but the virtue of education is predicated on change, Harry. For too long, Albus allowed this school to wallow in its traditions, hiring retread teachers and allowing professors to become set in their ways, myself included."

"Why me?"

"Because you may make a great educator, Harry." Minerva said with a genuine smile. "However, your true skill will always be your ability to inspire others. It is why those of us that believed in you suffered through a year of hell rather than escape the country. We believed that you would return and lead us to the light. For our faith in you, we were rewarded."

Harry was speechless. Minerva McGonagall was not a woman to place trust blindly, nor was she someone who wasted her breath on idle flattery. If this was something she honestly believed (and there was no indication to believe otherwise), then this was a genuine offer from one of the most respected witches in the country.

"Who is on staff these days?" Harry asked, his curiosity unable to be squelched.

"Potions is taught by Horace until the end of the term. After that point, the post will be taken by Angelina Johnson. Filius is still teaching Charms for the moment. However, he has named Sarah Fawcett as his apprentice. She will be teaching first and second years starting with the fall term. Gemma Farley, a former Slytherin Prefect, has taken over Transfiguration and will continue to do so."

"I remember Farley. Intense, right?"

"Is there a problem with being intense?" Minera scolded, an eyebrow raised.

"Not at all." Harry replied. "Continue."

"Mr. Longbottom will start full time in the fall in Herbology as you know."

"Binns still teaching History?"

"No. The damage done to the castle seemed to have finally woken him to the fact that he was, in fact, dead." Minerva chuckled. "He returned to his ancestral home in the weeks after the Battle."

"So who is teaching History?"

"I am." Minerva smirked. "Without the need for wands or cauldrons, it is something that someone of my limited mobility can still teach. Despite the fact that I do love my work as Headmistress, I have been a teacher for far too long to simply abandon it."

"It would seem strange to not have you teaching here."

"I quite agree." Minerva replied before continuing on. "Madam Hooch is retiring at the end of this year. She will hopefully be replaced by one of your friends."

"Who?"

Minerva's reply was simply a knowing glance.

"Ginny? You don't think she'll want to return to playing Quidditch."

"I don't presume to know what she wants. However, I do believe that we would be doing a disservice to both her and our institution if we didn't at least ask."

"I suppose I can't disagree with that."

"I thought the same." Minerva smiled. "Hagrid is still teaching Magical Creatures, although I do hope to convince Charlie Weasley to come home sometime."

"Good luck with that."

"Who knows? It may become your job."

"Minerva, I still haven't accepted the position." Harry replied. "You may have a bunch of new staff but I can assume that most of them have taught at some level professionally?"

"You would correct."

"Can I also assume that most of them are more socially acceptable than I am considering my current state?"

"You are beginning to sound like Ms. Granger."

"It's the most hazardous part about spending time with her." Harry mused. "I am right, aren't I?"

"You are."

"So why me?"

"For all the reasons I've already said." Minerva repeated. "Plus one more."

"And that is?"

"This." Minerva whispered, lifting her cane.

"Your cane?"

"Not the cane, what it represents." Minerva said, a mournful tone in her voice. "I am not a young woman, Harry. I am not blessed with the sheer amount of magical power that kept Albus alive for as long as it did. Based on the conversations that I have had with my Healers, I can expect to live a few more years."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, dear boy." Minerva snapped. "I've lived to see some of the greatest witches and wizards of our time." Suddenly, she leaned towards Harry. "I even was lucky enough to teach some of them."

"We were lucky to have you."

"Whoever said I was talking about you?" Minerva snapped with a playful wink of her eye. "I have lived a full life and whenever my time comes, I am ready. However, I know that it is my duty to put this school on the path to greatness again before I go. I am asking you to help me with that. Unfortunately, Albus, and by some extension, Severus left us a great deal to do. This doesn't have to become a life position, Harry. You could help lead the school to the greatness we know that it can have and then pass the position to someone else. Being the youngest person to become Headmaster by nearly twenty years does allow you some career flexibility."

While Harry had nearly made up his mind, Minerva's impassioned plea for his assistance solidified his decision.

"Fine." Harry said, exhaling completely as he spoke as if he had been holding a day's worth of breath in just one singular breath.

"Fine?"

Based on the look she gave him, Harry realized that Minerva still didn't believe that he would actually take the job. Sitting up to strike a more official posture, Harry spoke in a low, even tone.

"When can I start?"

"You mean you'll do it?"

"I'll do anything you need, Minerva." Harry said with a chuckle.


	22. Chapter 22

The morning after one of the most shocking days in recent memory, Harry sat at the kitchen table in Hermione's apartment as the members of his task force filed in. As they did, he reflected over the strangeness of these meetings. For most ventures of this kind, Harry imagined that they met in back alleys and darkened rooms.

Instead, Harry's task force met in a high rise apartment in the middle of London with a breakfast for fresh tea and scones. It certainly was a strange thing when you added in the weight of the topic at hand: the potential alliance of the three Death Eater factions that had been plaguing the country for more than a year.

"So, let's begin." Harry said firmly. "Daphne, you have more information for us?"

"I do." she confirmed before pulling some parchment from her bag. "These are files I pulled from the Aurors archives."

"How did you get access to those?" Oliver asked in a fury.

"Someone owed me a favor."

"I bet a lot of people owe you favors." Neville quipped.

"Neville!" Harry scolded before turning back to Daphne. "Continue."

"Anyway, unbeknownst to you, Robards has been having Aurors tail anyone associated with Lestrange or Dolohov. During this time, they managed to secretly intercept your team in Glasgow."

"So they're aware that we're working this." Harry muttered. "What was his reaction?"

"Nothing thus far." Daphne commented. "However, he didn't stop trailing people. Specifically, he tailed Rabastan Lestrange."

"Rodolphus' brother? Why?" Harry asked. "I thought that Rabastan was working for Dolohov."

"He had been according to the notes of the supervising Auror." Daphne agreed. "But he goes on to note that he eventually intercepted a meeting between the two brothers."

"That's unusual."

"It is. However, what's more unusual was that it instantly turned into a meeting between Dolohov and Rodolphus."

This news wasn't simply unusual. It was cataclysmic. An alliance between Rodolphus and Antonin Dolohov would mean that a vast majority of the free Death Eaters would be on one side with a plan to break the rest out of Azkaban to follow shortly. In Harry's mind, he could think of nothing other than this was likely the worst news that he could have gotten this morning.

"What did they talk about?" Neville asked harshly.

"According to the Auror, it sounded like a subordinate meeting with their supervisor. Rodolphus allowed Dolohov to interrupt him on several occasions, including twice to chastise him. Dolohov apparently gave Lestrange orders to work on bringing Rookwood in line. If he was unable within the next several weeks-"

"Dolohov ordered him to put him down." Harry finished tentatively.

"He did." Daphne confirmed.

"Why?"

"I'm not exactly sure. However, I was able to use some of my social connections to glean a small bit of information."

"What?" Hermione barked impatiently.

"According to my sources," Daphne started in annoyance. "Rookwood wasn't willing to play along with the other two. There have been rumors out of Azkaban for months now that Dolohov and Lestrange would eventually team-up against Rookwood. Apparently, Rookwood couldn't give two Galleons about blood purity but is very clearly desiring of control. For some, the lack of ideology was perfect."

"But for others, it was a betrayal of Riddle's message." Harry finished.

"Exactly." Daphne agreed firmly. "But there is some light at the end of this particular tunnel."

"What is that?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently, Rookwood would do just about anything to see Dolohov and Lestrange taken down."

Each person in the room knew exactly what Daphne meant by that.

"Even work with us?" Neville questioned.

"It's worth a shot." Harry added before turning to Hermione. "Go to Kingsley. Tell him I want to meet with Rookwood and that he needs to be under 24 hour supervision from now on."

"Why?" Oliver asked.

"Because I don't want him killed before he can be of some good use."

As Harry looked up, the island was finally coming into sight. In previous years, no one would have actually been able to see much of the island for two reasons. First, it was almost entirely covered by a single triangular tower, obsidian in color and stone. It was a dark and menacing structure in every way, designed with the very obvious intent to inspire fear.

Secondly, the island's population was only about fifty percent prisoners. The other fifty percent belonged to their captors: the dementors of Azkaban Prison.

Their population spread over the island like a plague, spreading desolation and despair wherever they went. Their control over the island was so firm that almost no part of the island was visible due to the intense fog that emanated from the island itself.

Now, only a single pillar, one of the cornerstones, remained of the old tower as a reminder of the dark things that had previously been done there in the name of justice. While life at the new Azkaban Prison certainly wasn't pretty, it wasn't anywhere near the torture that life on the island had been before Voldemort's defeat.

One of Kingsley's first objectives after taking over as Minister had been to remove the Dementors. It had taken the brunt of nearly the entire Auror force, bolstered by a few other high ranking Ministry officials, including Hermione herself, in order to force them away. Most of the Dementors had fled north over the water where they likely starved due to the lack of emotion on which to feed.

The remainder scattered to the darkest places of the continent.

Currently, the island was quite different from its previous incarnation. Now, instead of a single monolithic structure, the island was dotted with several smaller buildings. Each building held four cells with relatively standard living accommodations. Kingsley had been adamant that he wanted to treat criminals with respect and by giving them the simple necessities of life and nothing more, he had done just that.

However, despite the improved living conditions for most of the prisoners, there was still the Black Box in the center of the island. The Box (as it was most commonly called) was where the worst prisoners were held. Currently, it was home to only one inmate: Augustus Rookwood.

Once the enchanted boat that Harry had been riding on came to a stop, he stepped off with purpose. No one would question why Harry Potter was coming to Azkaban. They had all been instructed by the Minister of Magic that not a single Auror was to speak to Harry unless they were directly spoken to. As Harry marched across the grounds, there were two reactions to him. Most of the guards averted their gaze, intentionally looking away so as not to make eye contact with the mad former Auror.

However, others stared, their gaze pressing hot against Harry's face. He could always tell when he was being watching. It was a side effect of being the center of attention for as long as he had been.

Ignoring everyone, Harry stepped into the Box at the center of the island. Inside, Harry continued his instructions and marched down the single spiral staircase into the bowels of the island. For nearly five minutes, Harry descended until he finally came upon a landing.

From there, he marched straight on to the end of the hall where he pushed through the door into a single small room. In the center of the room where two chairs, one of which was empty.

The other, however, was not.

Sitting in that chair was none that the Death Eater, Augustus Rookwood. Even after months in prison, Rookwood looked relatively well-kept. His hair was long, rolling over his ears in brown and grey locks. The stubble on his face suggested that he shaved with a good razor and the lack of any gauntness in his face let Harry know that he was being adequately taken care of.

However, it was the eyes that set Rookwood apart from the rest of the world. The eyes are certainly the pathway to the soul, Harry thought as he sat across from Rookwood. Some people have eyes that conveyed joy, others sorrow and others still gave the air of complacency.

But Rookwood's eyes gave off an exceedingly different vibe.

Rage.

Pure and simple rage.

Whether it was being brought out of his cell, the presence of Harry Potter, the world or some combination of the three, Augustus Rookwood gave off a thick effervescence of rage.

However, as Harry observed him, he noticed the rest of the package obscured that sense of rage from truly coming to the surface. His lackadaisical posture coupled with the lazy smirk that crossed his face gave off a dismissive air, a play for control of the room before a single word had been spoke.

Still, Harry would not be swayed. The look that Rookwood gave let Harry know exactly who he was dealing with.

"Please, Mr. Potter, do sit." Rookwood uttered, his voice smooth and soft, betraying the darkness in his eyes with a gentility that Harry had not expected.

"Thank you." Harry replied, deciding to play into the charade that Rookwood was attempting. "I hope they are treating you well."

"It certainly is better than the old Azkaban. Although I do miss listening to Lucius Malfoy's constant whimpering in the corner."

"Really?"

"Seeing that snivelling little bastard cower in the corner was the only thing that got me through my first stint here."

"Not a fan of the Malfoys, are you?" Harry questioned. Even if Harry knew that the Death Eaters couldn't like each other completely, it was very rare to hear one of them so clearly bash another member of the Death Eaters.

"They were never dedicated enough for me." Rookwood answered firmly. "Now, Mr. Potter, although I believe that we could talk about our distaste for the Malfoys all day, why don't you talk about what you actually came here for?"

Harry thought for a moment about how he wanted to approach this. It was clear to Harry that Rookwood didn't know why Harry was there. If he had, he would have been legitimately direct instead of using this act of deflection to feign directness. He was searching for information, curious more than anything.

If Harry was going to get Rookwood to work with him, he needed to allow Rookwood to believe that he was still in control while simultaneously taking the very control he craved away from him without him realizing it.

It was going to be tight line to walk but he was confident he could do it.

"Well, being the information broker that you are, I'm sure that you know that I am running a task force to bring down the remaining Death Eaters."

"I am aware." Rookwood said with a small smile. "So far, you seem to have done a pretty terrible job."

"We brought in Thorfinn Rowle." Harry said, intentionally leaving himself vulnerable for a verbal counter.

"Rowle is a big, dumb ox." Rookwood said with rolled eyes. "Let me know when you catch someone of consequence."

"How does Antonin Dolohov sound?"

"Good luck with that." Rookwood chuckled. "I like Antonin but he's a monster. Even I wouldn't cross him."

"I don't need luck." Harry snapped. "I have a team of the best witches and wizards on the case. We have located Dolohov's ancestral home where we know he's operating."

"So then you have him. Congrats."

"Unfortunately, we have one major obstacle to overcome." Harry replied before pulling out a map of the area and laying it on the table in between the two of them. "Dolohov's wards are based entirely in the runes at the foundation of the mansion itself. Without access to those runes, we can't break through to the mansion and he remains hidden."

"That sounds like a terrible problem, Mr. Potter, but I don't understand how this has anything to do with me."

"You were tied into the wards at one point." Harry said softly. "I will agree with you that Rowle is a big, dumb ox. Unfortunately for you, he's now my big, dumb ox. He cut a deal with us for a far more favorable life than the one he would have gotten sharing a cell with you."

"Damn fool." Rookwood mumbled, the facade finally cracking. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I want the Death Eater threat eliminated." Harry admitted. "I think that the kind of power that you crave and the doctrine that you follow to obtain it are reprehensible. I think that the world is better without you or anyone of your type in it."

"And yet…." Rookwood replied with a crooked grin. Thankfully, Harry was prepared for the conversation to lead in this direction. So, the concession that he was about to make was far more calculated than the act that Harry was performing.

"And yet, I know that it's not truly possible. Not yet. I know that I need to work with some of you to get rid of most of the Death Eaters. So, people like Rowle will get leniency to ensure that Dolohov and the Lestranges end up either dead or behind bars. You can be Rowle or you can be Dolohov. It's entirely your choice."

Harry watched as Rookwood mentally wrestled with himself. It was everything that Harry could do not to laugh out loud. Every Death Eater prided themselves on control, on dominance, on the fact that they were in charge.

Harry wondered just how "in charge" Rookwood felt right now.

"I'm waiting." Harry said, just to make Rookwood squirm some more.

"What are you asking for?" Rookwood growled.

"Runes like the ones at the Dolohov estate are almost impossible to alter. Once an addition has been made, it is almost permanent. Consider that in addition to the fact that Dolohov likely has possession by less than reputable means, there is a strong chance that you are still tied into the wards there."

"That's great, Potter. I'm also imprisoned on your island here."

"Augustus, I can make just about anything happen if you help." Harry replied honestly. "I have already talked with Minister Shacklebolt. If you agree to help, we'll work with the Ministry in America to send you to their best maximum security prison."

"Trading one cell for another? No thank you."

"Not true. Here, you are the top priority of the Aurors Department. In the United States, you would be a general population prisoner. We would agree to a false identity for you. Of course the staff at the prison would know your true identity but would be required to keep quiet about it."

"And I'm supposed to trust them?"

"Magic can do wonderful things, Rookwood." Harry said pleasantly before standing. "Here's the deal: you will do a test Side-along apparition with me beyond the wards. If it is successful, we take you to a cell at the Ministry while we finalize our attack plan. Once we have taken the mansion, we will hold you for a period of two weeks while we ensure that there has been no subterfuge on your part. If that is the case, we will organize travel to Alcatraz within two days."

"That's it? I just have to get you in? No fighting, no certain death trap?"

"My team is more than capable of taking down Dolohov without you." Harry said before leaning in to get face-to-face with Rookwood. "Also, considering that George Weasley is on my team, you should be thankful for that."

"Why?"

"You killed his brother. He would have no problem with you conveniently ending up dead at the end of our mission." Harry said with a dark grin. "You get us into the mansion, you remain with us until we leave and you don't betray us in the meantime and you get out of this hole."

Having said his bit, Harry stood, gathered his materials and made his way to the door. As he reached the room's exit, he turned back to Rookwood.

"You have a day to decide."

A moment later, Harry was marching up the stairs, a confident air about him as he reached the surface. Harry was almost entirely certain that he would take the offer.

He just didn't know how quickly he would do it.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to wait long. As Harry and his escort made their way back to the enchanted boat that brought them there, he heard someone yelling his name. Turning back to the source of the shouting, Harry was greeted by one of the Junior Aurors in charge of Rookwood.

"He said he'll take your deal." the man said, gasping for air.

"Good." Harry said firmly. "Thanks for the information."

"Quite….welcome."

Having done his business, Harry spun back towards the boat and marched, leaving the group of Aurors that were "guarding" him in his wake. They each scattered in their attempt to catch up but were largely unsuccessful until they neared the boat. Swiftly, Harry thanked each Auror personally for their service and then got on the boat where his mind instantly went to formulating the plan that would bring Dolohov down for good.

Rarely did Harry have time to himself now that he lived with Hermione. He spent almost the entirety of each day with her, whether it was at home or working from her office at the Ministry.

But tonight was different. Tonight, Hermione had hidden away in her home office, working on her final arguments for the next day. Not only would the team be meeting with Rookwood at the Ministry, but it was also the vote for the Blood Equality Act.

Needless to say, Hermione was a bit on edge and so Harry was giving her all the space she wanted. So, instead of the usual events of the evening, Harry found himself simply staring out at the window, watching as the sun set over the horizon. It was one of the great things about the apartment that Hermione lived in. Being the high rise level that it was, Harry was able to look out into the distance and see the sun disappear rather than simply wait for it to disappear behind the buildings around him.

Harry was suddenly broken from his reverie when there was a knock on the door. Gripping his wand, Harry turned and sprang towards the door. Normally, someone would look upon this behavior as paranoid.

Normal people weren't Harry Potter.

Turning slowly, Harry looked through the peephole before relaxing against the door, breathing a sigh of relief. With a nervous chuckle, Harry opened the door to reveal Ron Weasley standing in the hallway.

"Ron, what are you doing here?" Harry asked as he allowed him to enter the apartment.

"Hello to you too." Ron mused.

"Sorry, mate. Just didn't expect company tonight."

"Yeah, Hermione told me you'd be home alone." Ron informed him.

"She told you?"

"Well, she told Neville who told George who told me." Ron stammered softly. "But I think she meant the information for me."

"Merlin's beard, you two are ridiculous." Harry chuckled lightly. "Still, what are you doing here?"

"Convincing you to go to a little reunion."

"Excuse me?"

"It's not going to be anything huge, Harry." Ron promised earnestly. "A few of us normally go to The Leaky Cauldron about once a week. However, when I heard that you were free, I made some changes to the night."

"Such as….."

"Such as moving our location to a Muggle bar a few blocks from Diagon Alley. That way there's no chance the Prophet shows up during our night out."

"Anything else?"

"I may have invited a few more people." Ron said sheepishly as he saw the look on Harry's face. "This is not just anyone, Harry. I didn't invite McLaggen or someone like that. These are all good people, people you know. I even barred people from bringing significant others who aren't part of the group."

"Group? Why do I have a bad feeling-"

"Yes, I'm inviting you to the first Dumbledore's Army reunion." Ron admitted. "Not everyone was able to make it but most of them were."

"Ron, I'm still not in great place sometimes."

"I know, mate, but maybe getting out and seeing the world won't be such a fucking bad thing." Ron shot back. "You think that you have to hide somewhere and get better before you can face the world. Maybe it's the other way around you need to come to the world before you can get better."

Harry smirked at the line.

"How long have you been practicing that line?"

"About ten minutes before I got here." Ron grinned before it slipped. "I'm not kidding, Harry. There's even a surprise for you."

"The fact that I'm considering going to a bar isn't a surprise enough."

"Just put your damn coat on." Ron said as he summoned it from across the room to Harry. "You'll thank me when the night is over."

"I suppose."

Although Harry wasn't particularly excited for the evening, he couldn't help but see a little bit of truth in Ron's statement. Sure, he wasn't sure that going out was going to help him but it certainly couldn't hurt, especially if Ron had seen to making sure that the group there was a relatively low-key collection of people.

After a quick Side-Along Apparition with Ron, Harry followed him a few blocks from the entrance of Diagon Alley to a simple Muggle bar. As Ron walked in, he nodded at the door man, who opened a side door for him.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"Well, I figured we could spring for the private bar tonight." Ron explained. "This place has three sections: a more public nightclub, a regular bar and then a private one, operated by a single bar keep. We pooled some money together and decided to get the private one so that you would feel more comfortable."

In all the years that he had spent with Ron Weasley, he had never felt more taken care of by his good friend. Recently, times had been rough between the two of them but in this moment, Harry was reminded why Ron was his first friend at Hogwarts. Sure, he was brash, arrogant and occasionally downright rude. But he always had Harry's best interests at heart and that certainly meant something.

As the pair of them climbed the stairs, Harry felt the pounding of the bass heavy music from the club begin to fade, replaced by the sound of distant chatter that rose in volume as they got closer to the top.

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs where Ron opened the door to reveal the bar. It was a relatively straightforward bar with the lone exception being that there were no bar stools around it. Instead, there were dozens of small tables that littered the room, each with two chairs on either side. It was obvious from the design that this room was meant for large parties to mill around the room, able to converse with each other without a loudspeaker system pounding in their ears.

As Harry and Ron entered the room, the population of the room suddenly got quiet, turning to notice the pair of them. True to Ron's word, as Harry scanned the room, he recognized every single face in the room to be a former member of Dumbledore's Army.

Even Hermione had snuck away from work to smirk at Harry from the back of the room.

For the next few hours, Harry was able to catch up with some of the friends that he had alienated when he had left the wizarding world behind.

Katie Bell was still trying to live her dream of becoming a professional Quidditch player but in the meantime, she was a correspondent for the Daily Prophet.

Parvati Patil had been living in China for the last year studying Divination from a Chinese seer named Shin Zhou. Unfortunately, scandal had followed her there when she had also become pregnant with his child. From Harry's perspective, the recently married couple seemed very pleased with themselves.

Dean Thomas had also followed Quidditch as a career path. However, he worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as a lead organizer in the British and Irish Quidditch League. He was also engaged to Demelza Robbins and would be married to her in the fall.

Ginny and George stood towards the back of the room. While Harry knew that George had warmed to him significantly, Ginny's recent behavior suggested that she wouldn't be as pleasant. Thankfully, the few interactions he had with her during the night were relatively few and far between.

Even Cho had managed to come from South America where she was living for the next year studying some extreme strain of Potion-making. Needless to say, no one was quite sure what she was working on although some people seemed to think that she was working on making ways to detect those who were taking Polyjuice Potion more easily.

However, it was well past midnight when the surprise that Ron had mentioned was finally revealed. As Harry was in the midst of a pleasant conversation with Alicia, Katie and Angelina about their time together on the Quidditch pitch, the voice of Hermione Granger came over the microphone at the far end of the room.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" she said firmly, sounding far too much like Minerva McGonagall for anyone's liking. Whether due to that likeness or simply being polite, all conversation stopped as they turned to look at her. As she spoke, she noticed that the bartender stepped out of the room.

"I would like to thank everyone for coming out. After all the pain and hardship that we've gone through over the last few years, I think we all earned the opportunity for the members of Dumbledore's Army to meet without having a fight on our hands."

With this, a few people on the far side of the room cheered loudly before raising a glass. Everyone else saluted in kind before following with a drink.

"Now, before we all go home, there is someone that would like to say something."

Turning around, Harry watched as Hermione muttered to someone behind the curtain behind her. As she did, someone stepped out from behind that very same curtain. Suddenly, the picture became clear to Harry as Luna Lovegood grabbed the microphone and spoke.

"Good evening!" Luna said brightly.

"Good evening!" was the general call from the cloud.

Luna had probably had the most exciting life of anyone that had been in Dumbledore's Army after they had finished school. For six months, Luna had worked as the Editor in Chief of The Quibbler up until her father's death in the November following The Battle of Hogwarts. For a few weeks, she had tried to press on before admitting that the magazine was no longer her thing.

So, in a night, she left England, taking a job with a magizoologist in north Greece. She hadn't been home since and rarely managed to exchange letters. The little that Harry heard from Luna personally was supplemented by her ever growing reputation was one of the world's most brilliant minds in magical animals. In fact, her reputation was so great that the Greek Ministry, one of the world's most reclusive, had even offered her a position, something that was almost unheard of for a non-Greek citizen.

"It's good to be home." Luna continued. "I've been away for too long. Too busy chasing Crumple-Horned Snorkack's, I guess."

The room chuckled softly as Luna's comment. Over the past year, those few that did talk her stated that Luna had become very aware of the lies that Xenophilius had told his daughter over the years. Not only did she know, she used the lies that her father told her in her new career. Most of the stories that her father had created were based in lore somewhere. This meant that there was sightings of a creature much like the ones that Xenophilius had described. Her knowledge of magical animals combine with the lore she had learned from her father made her an indispensable member of any team investigating the legendary creatures of the magical world.

"Rather than beat around the bush, I think I'll get right to the point. We're here for two reasons. First, we are here to have a good time, something we haven't gotten to do much recently. But secondly, we're here for Harry."

Instantly, Harry felt every eye in the room on him. Rather than focus on that, he locked eyes with Luna whose gaze never wavered.

"I know that you hate this, so I'll keep it brief." Luna said apologetically. "Without you, Harry, there's none of this. Without you, Hermione has a splendid idea that never sees the light of day. Without you, Neville never becomes Hogwart's newest herbology professor. Without you, Tom Riddle would have won the day."

It was very rare of Luna to speak so plainly. Even when she was trying to make a point, she often spoke in more poetic phrasing. This time, she spoke with no illusions or pretenses.

She meant every word of what she said.

"You are also part of the reason I'm coming back home." Luna smirked. "For those of you that don't know, Harry is starting at Hogwarts in the fall as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." This was met with rowdy round of applause. "He's also been named Headmaster-in-waiting. When I found that out, I raced back to England. You see, I've had a standing offer from Professor McGonagall to take over the Care of Magical Creatures class. Normally, I wouldn't have thought anything about it. But knowing that I would get to work with Harry again was something that pushed me into taking the job!"

Another round of applause rang through the room along with a collection of cheers that accompanied them.

"I'll be moving back to London in June." Luna said with a pleasant look about her. "Without you, Harry, there's a chance I would have never come home. After Papa died, I left because our world had become too dark for me. I found out about my father's lies, I had recently lost close friends and then my father himself. It was too much."

Finally, Luna made her point.

"It was you that brought me back, Harry. It was you that gave me light in the darkness."

Luna silently leaned forward and grabbed the glass from the table in front of her. Raising it above her head, she spoke one last bit.

"To those who we lose, we remember you. To those who are here, we love you. To Harry Potter, we will forever be in your debt."

Finishing her speech, Harry watched as Luna knocked back the remainder of her drink as the rest of the room followed her lead, doing the same. Almost instantly, the room started to clear out as the final word had been given on the evening. Unfortunately, Harry didn't get to spend much time with Luna as she was returning to Greece to finish her last project before taking the job at Hogwarts.

However, the impact of her words left Harry in a great mood and for the first time in months, Harry went home, laid down and slept all through the night without any single bit of insomnia and not a flicker of a bad dream.

The next morning, Harry sat in his office, hiding from the rest of the world for a brief time before his daily truly began. Even if the previous night had been one of Harry's favorite over the last year, it was still an exhausting night and so as Harry mentally prepped for the day, he decided that spending a bit of time apart was going to be good for him.

Eventually, Harry sighed and stood, leaving his office to make his way to the lifts at the end of the hall. As he marched down the hall, he could feel the eyes of everyone on him as he passed. Per usual, Harry ignored them but it was a stark contrast from the previous night's experience. When Harry reached the lifts, he entered and took them to the lowest level where they were keeping Rookwood in preparation for the events of the day.

This time, there was no one down there to look at him as he exited the lift and quickly made his way to the interrogation room where they were keeping Rookwood. When Harry turned the corner, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the entirety of his team had beaten him there and were waiting on him.

"You ready for this?" Hermione asked him softly as he approached.

"We'll see soon enough, won't we?" Harry said with a smirk before turning to Daphne. "Is it ready?"

"I have a man from the Daily Prophet in my office." Daphne confirmed with a short nod. "He'll be ready should we need him."

"Good." Harry agreed before turning and entering the interrogation room. As he opened the door, Rookwood's gaze remained focused on the table in front of him. For a few moments, Harry let him stare before coughing slightly, causing Rookwood to jump and look at Harry.

"Are you ready, Augustus?" Harry asked.

"I'm not particularly pleased with my part in the plan, Potter."

"I don't care." Harry admitted casually. "Your part in the plan is very simple. We Apparate to the town where he lives. We approach the edge of the wards and test them. You Apparate the pair of us inside the wards at a point of my choosing. Once I've confirmed that we can enter the wards, we come back here. If this all goes to plan, then you get to go to America and never have to worry about seeing my face again."

"Great."

"However, to ensure your cooperation, I have a man from the Prophet here. If no one hears from me for any longer than ten minutes, then they pass all of the information on this deal to the Prophet who will publish it by this evening."

"Are you threatening me, Potter?" Rookwood growled darkly.

"No, I'm reminding you who's in charge just in case you got any particularly stupid ideas about trying to take me into a trap."

"You have nothing to worry about. I hate that monster just as much as you do."

"Let me be the judge of what I worry about." Harry replied quickly before checking his watch. "Are you ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be."

Harry turned back to the window behind him. Although he couldn't see them, he knew that his team was standing behind the class, watching them.

"The clock starts the moment we leave." Harry said simply before marching around the table and grabbing Rookwood's arm. "Go."

Almost instantly, Harry felt the familiar tug of Apparition as his feet left the ground inside the Ministry and landed in the dark streets of a small town in Ireland. Instantly, Harry's arm left Rookwood's.

"Lead on."

It was a relatively brief walk from the center of the quaint town to the Dolohov estate. While Harry knew he wouldn't be able to see the house itself until he was inside of the wards, he could still feel and see the signs of magic increasing steadily as they marched closer. Personally, Harry was thankful for the relative dark of the early morning. If they had been visible, it would have been obvious who they were and their intentions.

Thankfully, the hour was still early enough in the winter that the sun was only barely creeping over the horizon.

Eventually, Rookwood stopped dead in his tracks, sticking his arm up to stop Harry from moving any further.

"We're here." he muttered softly.

Sure enough, Harry saw no building in the area. However, the wards themselves were very apparent for two reasons. First, Harry could feel the pull of the magic on him.

Secondly, the wards didn't vanish the walls around the property, leaving them visible to everyone. This gave off a very strange effect with high walls and giant gate that protected…...exactly nothing. Needless to say, if the Muggle repelling charms failed, someone was going to be very confused by this ancient property.

Stepping forward, Harry moved until he felt the wards start to push back against him. Once there, Harry began checking the wards in front of him. Having spent effectively the last year in a library, Harry was well versed in the different types of wards and how they were able to be layered.

Thankfully, Harry was also well aware of how to bring them down. Bring down too many at once and you risked collapsing whatever structure you were trying to reveal. Bring down too few and you give yourself away before you access the property.

In either case, Harry wasn't trying to take them down just yet. He simply wanted to know what was there. He found a relatively simply collection of wards: an anti-Apparition, a Muggle repellent, an anti-vision and an anti-entry with another ward added that each of these would latch onto. It would be a simple task to get in once he broke down that particular ward.

"Take me in." Harry ordered. "There." Harry pointed at a tree on the other side of the fence, just twenty yards away.

Quickly, Rookwood grabbed Harry's arm and turned. A single second later, they were standing near that tree. Looking up, Harry could now see the house, although castle was probably closer to the correct word. Years ago, the building had been majestic. Now, it stood in a state of general disrepair with one tower completely collapsed and another leaning dangerously. However, Harry could see the main part of the building stood occupied with lights on in almost every room.

It took everything in his power to not simply storm the castle now. Harry knew that he was very gifted but with the numbers that Harry expected in the home, even he wasn't sure that he would come out alive.

Instead, Harry nodded for Rookwood to take them back to the Ministry. Once they landed, Harry dismissed most of his team and told Daphne to send the Prophet reporter away empty-handed. When they were gone, only Harry, Hermione and Neville remained behind.

"Are we going to be able to do this?" Neville asked, obviously nervous.

"It will be a challenge but it is possible." Harry confirmed. "Dolohov has gotten complacent. The wards are nothing special. If even he knows that someone was looking at them and updates them, there's only so much more he can do without taking them down entirely and I doubt that's a risk he will take."

"So, the question remains: when do we do this?"

"Two days." Harry answered instantly before turning to Neville. "Go tell Wood that I want a constant watch on the property. We're probably not going to see much of anything but just in case."

"You got it." Neville replied before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

"Are you ready for this?" Hermione asked.

"This could be it, Hermione. It's why we can't wait too long. The longer we wait, the more time he has to prepare. They have already been ahead of us for months. No more."

"I just want you to be sure."

"I am sure, Hermione." Harry confirmed seriously. "It's been a long time since I've been this sure. In two days, we're taking Antonin Dolohov down."


	23. Chapter 23

With a plan officially in place to take Dolohov down, Harry started calling in favors from various Ministry members. This meant that rather than using Hermione's apartment as an ill-suited staging ground for his team, they were now situated in one of the situation rooms attached to the Auror Department with a support staff full of Aurors. Harry was sure that the rumor mill was running high but since no one other than his team was allowed in the room, there should have been no way for anyone to get any information that Harry deemed important in any way.

As the preparations had been made, Harry called the entire team in full-time. This meant that no one left the Ministry under any circumstances. After finishing his chat with Rookwood, he had given each team member four hours to prepare and do whatever they felt they needed to do, given that they were all about to embark on an exceedingly dangerous mission.

Daphne had, not surprisingly, been the first to arrive. Her family had expressed a disinterest in her ever since she had informed him that she was working with Harry Potter on a secret project. While they weren't necessarily staunch supporters of any of the Death Eaters, they also certainly weren't interested in stepping against them, considering they ran in the same social circles as the Death Eaters themselves.

Oliver had arrived shortly after Daphne. He had no family to speak of with both of his parents recently deceased. However, he did have a collection of paperwork that needed finished before he isolated himself away for two days.

Hannah and Neville had arrived with about an hour left before Harry's deadline. The comradery between the two of them was obvious. For a moment, it worried Harry. But then Harry remembered just how he felt about Hermione and realized just how hypocritical he would have been to say something.

Hermione, after having finished up her work in her own office, arrived with just fifteen minutes to spare, leaving just George as the remaining member of the team. When he did arrive just moments before Harry's deadline, his eyes were red and bleary. One simple answer gave Harry all the information he needed.

"Mum."

"Understandable." Harry had replied.

That had been nearly a day earlier. In the last day, the team had taken to analyzing the area surrounding the Dolohov estate, studying both Muggle and magical maps with topographical information on the area. The estate was settled next to an ancient Muggle town, nestled into a valley between two mountains. It gave great vantage points for members of the team to provide oversight once the wards were down.

The only problem with this was that it also prevented escape if the wards were brought back up before they could take down Dolohov. This meant that any possible retreat was going to have to be one fought inch by inch.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Daphne worked together in coordinating various Ministry offices to isolate any sort of magical activity in the area. Harry was certain that the entirety of Dolohov's force wasn't living on the estate but instead, hiding among the Muggles in the town. Harry had to laugh at the irony of a group that would hide among the people they hated the most to avoid detection.

Finally, with about a day left before the assault would begin, Harry called his team and Kingsley into the situation room where Harry would outline the intended plan.

"So, here is the current plan." Harry started as he waved his wand. As he did, a three-dimensional map of the area floated out in front of the team. Using Harry's wand, he was able to manipulate the map and the figures indicating the members of his team.

"Hermione and I will be at the front as we are the two most equipped to bring down the wards." Harry said, indicating a pair of illusions that looked like the two of them. "Wood, you are going to be here, along the ridgeline at the back of the property. Once we bring the wards down, you will be in charge of directing us. Our goal is to avoid confrontation until we're inside the manor."

"Understood. Will we have the Wireless again?"

"Yes." Harry confirmed. "I talked to Ron this morning to ensure that we could get all of the supplies we had last time. He'll be delivering them personally in about four hours."

"Great."

"George, you will be on the distraction committee."

"I can't say I'm surprised." George smirked.

"Nor should you." Harry replied. "Once the wards are down, I want you to create the largest distraction we've ever seen. This needs to make your escape from Hogwarts look like a joke."

"Are you serious?" George said, a boyish look in his eyes.

"Yes, tell Ron to bring what he can with him from Wheezes. I want mass hysteria, I want confusion and disarray. There are only seven of us, I want them to think there are thirty. You have a day to put this together."

"Not a problem." George said, his small smile evolving into a grin so wide Harry thought his face might crack in two.

"Good." Harry chuckled before turning to Hannah, Neville and Daphne. "The three of you will be on containment. Once Hermione and I enter the manor, I want you to re-establish the Anti-Apparition wards and then approach the manor. Make sure that anyone trying to escape or bring down the wards are taken down."

"You got it." Hannah said cheerfully while Neville nodded to agree.

"The two of you are going in the manor alone?" Daphne asked skeptically.

"The goal isn't to murder every person in the house. It's to get to Dolohov and Lestrange and bring them down. For that, we need to move quickly. If they get word that there's an invasion force inside the house, they will move to escape instantly."

"And if that happens," Hermione interrupted. "Then we run the risk of losing them entirely. We've gotten lucky that we found out where they are now. If we lose them now, we might never find them again."

"It still seems awfully risky sending in just the two of you." Kingsley said, concurring with Daphne's point. "Why not bring along a small team of Aurors?"

"Because of our concerns with the Auror Office in general." Harry replied cryptically. "I don't want this information to leave this room, let alone be put in the hands of every Auror out there."

"Then we don't inform them of the target." Kingsley offered. "Tell them that you need protection, not who you're going after."

"You expect that to work? Mark my words, we bring in outside people and the odds of this mission failing rise incredibly." Harry said dismissively. "I won't jeopardize this mission because we don't think that Hermione and I can do this. If there is anyone out there than can enter this mansion undetected, get to our targets and ensure that they're either dead or captured, it's the pair of us."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Harry. I just worry about whether or not you can do it and then come out alive."

"Let me worry about that."

"Harry, I'm the Minister of Magic and you're the country's greatest celebrity. I have to worry about it." Kingsley replied without any humor whatsoever.

"We'll be fine."

"If you say so." Kingsley replied, knowing that this wasn't a fight that he was going to win.

"Good." Harry replied before looking at his team. "You each have your assignments. We will meet back here in twenty hours to begin prep. In that time, prepare yourselves for the tasks required and do your best to stay relaxed. I know that rest and relaxation may not be easy to come by with sleeping here at the Ministry, but do try your best. Get a good night's sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

That night, Harry was in the midst of going through the available blueprints for Dolohov Manor. It was very late and although Harry knew that he needed to get some rest, he couldn't help but feel that he wasn't prepared. For nearly two days, they had gone over every detail of the plan with the finest of combs. Still, he scanned the blueprints looking for any hiding places, any advantages that he could use against Dolohov and Lestrange. In his head, he even knew that the blueprints were likely horribly outdated and yet, he pressed on, scanning the page with an obsessive rigor.

When Hermione walked into the room, he hardly even spared her a glance, let alone a grunt of a hello. For a few minutes, Hermione simply sat at the chair across from Harry, watching him. Eventually, she reached across the desk, her hand finding his.

The contact shocked Harry momentarily, breaking his concentration and forcing him to look up at Hermione. There was an expression there that Harry couldn't quite read, something that gave him pause for two reasons. The first being that Harry could almost always read the expression on her face within seconds.

The second being that when Harry did figure out just what he was looking at, he realized that she looked frightened, a trait Harry rarely associated with Hermione Granger.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly as she tried and failed to feign bravery.

"What is it?" Harry asked, the blueprints now completely forgotten.

"I don't think we have enough." Hermione said in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"There's only seven of us, Harry. We know that Dolohov has at least twenty people at his disposal. What if we're wrong? What if he has fifty?"

"We're not wrong. We've detailed every single one of his attacks and cataloged the people involved. There's no way that he has more than thirty."

"So thirty. You think that about half of them are in the town."

"I do." Harry confirmed.

"What if they aren't?"

"Hermione?"

"What if they're all inside the castle? What if none of them react to George's distraction? What if they all hole up inside the mansion and wait for us? That's thirty people against the two of us, Harry."

Harry could see just how terrified Hermione was. This wasn't because Hermione wasn't brave or because she didn't trust Harry. Even as she expressed her concerns, Harry was sure that she would still go with him, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that the logical part of Hermione's brain was screaming that the numbers were too high for Harry and Hermione to defeat alone.

"What are you suggesting?" Harry asked.

"We bring two teams of Aurors in with us like Kingsley suggested. If we wait until the last minute, there's no way they get that they can know what or who we're looking for. They'll just know they need to protect us."

"But what if they do?"

"How would they?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." Harry admitted quietly. "But, it still seems like an unnecessary risk. We've gotten this far by keeping the information we know isolated to a few people. I don't even like including Kingsley because he has to talk to too many people. It's too much information for him to know."

"That's paranoia, Harry. We trust Kingsley. He trusted you."

"I do trust Kingsley. I just don't trust the people that he talks to and I definitely can't trust a man as respectable as him to lie to everyone. He's not a politician, Hermione. He's an Auror. He's a man with morals."

"Aren't you?"

"Warped ones, sure." Harry replied. "Tomorrow, we're going to attack Dolohov. If he won't go down quietly, I will put him down."

"Harry…."

"Hermione, I've seen too much of the world to think that everything is going to be solved by good people doing good things. Sometimes, good people need to do bad things to ensure that horrible people don't do worse."

"I know." Hermione admitted. "I just wish it wasn't that way."

"Trust me. So do I." Harry whispered. "I know that we can do this, Hermione. We've survived worse and we will survive this."

"If you think so." Hermione replied, her voice more steady than more.

"I do."

Seeing that there was no convincing Harry, Hermione stood and made her way to the door.

"Are you sleeping sometime soon?"

"I have one more thing that I want to do and then I'm going to bed."

"Good." Hermione said before she slipped out the door, shutting it softly behind her. For a moment, Harry considered calling her back and telling her that he was going to order the Aurors tomorrow. But the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn't brought onto the task force to make Hermione happy.

He was there to make the difficult decisions. So even if she would be upset with him over it, Harry strongly believed that they could survive this without the additional help and that they would be more secure without the Aurors than they would be protected with them.

Realizing that his mind was no longer on the blueprints, Harry grabbed the thing that he wanted to do. A few weeks earlier, Harry had noticed the last day in Snape's journal. For him, there was something poetic about reading that last entry on the day he was going to take down Dolohov and his Death Eaters once and for all.

So, Harry put the blueprints away and pulled out Snape's journal, turning it to the last, hurried entry.

May 2, 1998

I am aware that this is likely to be the last entry in this journal. What started as a testament to the greatness of my character has instead turned into an explanation to those that I betrayed. Ironically, to the outside world, it will have appeared that I have betrayed everyone. Those that fight with Potter will believe me to be a Death Eater. Those that fight for Voldemort will believe I sold him out to be Dumbledore's lackey.

The secret of my love for Lily Evans, the secret that I buried so deep that no one knew, will ultimately become my undoing.

Sir Cadogan has informed me that Potter has entered the castle. If this is the truth, then tonight will be the battle that the wizarding world has been waiting for. In truth, I believe that Potter will be defeated on this night and the world plunged into the despair that Voldemort's reign will bring.

However, against all odds, I do hope that Potter can prove me wrong one last time. His ability to rely on others is something that I will never understand but it is what has allowed him to survive as long as he has.

The portraits around me begin to chatter. They say that McGonagall is leading a group here to take the school back from me. I must present myself to the Dark Lord. Hopefully, I can persuade him to allow me to bring the boy to him. If not, I can only hope that the connection that Voldemort and Potter share will lead him to me before the end. Even at the cost of my life, he must have the information I possess.

I leave now to confront Minerva. If I can get her to reveal Potter's location, I will be able to tell him the information he needs before it is too late.

As Harry turned the page, he noticed that the next page was written in an entirely perfect script, as if written by magic itself.

To Harry James Potter,

If you are reading this, then I am dead in all likelihood by your hand or Voldemort's. I can only hope that you have defeated him. With this journal and the memories that I intend to give you, you now know that you must sacrifice yourself in order to destroy Voldemort.

Then why am I writing this? Why would I write this epilogue to a man that I believe will die before he can read it? I write this because this plan was devised by none other than Albus Dumbledore. If Dumbledore was nothing else, he was calculating and precise. As you have no doubt seen in the memories I have given you, he is clear that Voldemort himself must kill you. There is something in there that leads me to believe that Dumbledore thinks there is a way for you to survive Voldemort's attack on you.

Against what you believe, I hope this to be true. If it is true, then I will die knowing that my promise to your mother was upheld.

However, if it is true, then that means that you would possess the ability to defeat the Dark Lord yourself. While I may always hate you for being the son of your wretched father, if you are able to defeat the Dark Lord and rid the world of the plague that he is, then I can respect you not as the progeny of your father, but as the son of your mother.

Good luck to you, Potter.

You will need it.

As Harry closed the book, all mix of emotions washed over him. First was a sense of completeness. That he knew the entirety of Snape's story was something that no one else knew. Second was a sense of pity. Snape gave his life for something that was never his. At the very least, Harry knew that the love he felt for his friends was reciprocated. Maybe years before his death, Harry's mother had loved him. But after that fateful day, his love was unrequited to the end.

But mostly, he felt a sense of rage. Snape had dozens of opportunities to tell him, to inform him of his fate and what he was going to need to do. Instead, he let the spite he felt for his father blind him to the need of every other person that would have been harmed by his inaction. Even his last parting message, a half-hearted attempt at atonement for his behavior, contained one last parting shot at his father.

When Harry had first started reading the book, he had thought that maybe the ending would be lead him to some sense of forgiveness. Instead, all Harry could think about was the lives that Severus Snape cost in order to keep the vendetta that he felt against his father for dying off. Instead, Harry realized that not all of the deaths of the war were his fault. Sure, there was some blame to be held by him.

But at the time, Harry was a child. The adults, Snape and Dumbledore, they were the ones that were in charge and they were the ones whose actions led to more deaths than necessary. Had they been proactive, maybe Fred Weasley would still be alive. Had they been proactive, maybe Sirius would be among them.

The knowledge that the blame of the war was to be shared, not solely focused on Harry, relieved him a burden he didn't realize he had been carrying. A smile on his face, Harry waved his wand, dousing the lamp in the corner of the room before leaning back for one final night's rest before the next great battle was at hand.

An hour.

That's how long they had before they were to be in place around the Dolohov estate, ready to begin their attack on the largest group of free Death Eaters remaining. To say that Harry was nervous was an understatement. Not only was this a dangerous mission but it was going to be a public one. There was no way that, in the wizarding world at the very least, a mission of this scope was going to be able to be swept under the rug. If it went wrong, the country would know. If it went right, the country would know. Either way, the true nature of Harry Potter's work was going to come out the wizarding public and his image would be forever altered by whether or not he was successful.

So, as Harry made his way to the final briefing, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. However, when Harry walked into the room and saw two teams of Aurors present, the unease instantly disappeared.

Instead, it was replaced by a deep, burning rage. Marching across the room, Harry recognized one of the team leaders and approached him.

"What are you doing here?" Harry growled, getting to within a few inches of his face.

"We were ordered by Head Auror Robards to protect your team."

"Bullshit. Who ordered you here?"

The auror looked left to right and noticed that none of his team was going to bail him out. "We were ordered here-"

"If you say Robards' name again, I will Hex you so fast your eyeballs will fall out. Now, who gave you the order to be here?"

"I did."

Instantly, Harry whipped around and came to face-to-face with none other than Hermione Granger. For a brief moment, the combination of Hermione's face and voice caught him off guard. Then, he remembered their conversation from the previous evening and Harry's blood boiled.

"Ms. Granger, may I see you outside?" Harry said, his teeth grinding together as he marched past her. The moment they were outside the door, Harry cast a silent Muffliato and unloaded on her. "WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

For her part, Hermione seemed relatively unfazed.

"My job." Hermione replied simply. "Part of my role on your task force was to ensure that your mental state did not impact the operation of the team in any way. Last night, I determined that a combination of overconfidence and paranoia were leading you to unwise decisions. Therefore, in combination with the Minister of Magic and the Head Auror, I authorized the addition of two teams of Aurors to this mission. They only know that they are to protect the two of us and have agreed to selective memory modification should they witness something they were not intended to see."

Harry was stunned. Never before had Hermione so overtly countered his directions. Certainly she had always expressed her opinions and usually managed a way to convince Harry that she was in the right. But this time, she hadn't bothered. She had simply used the authority at her disposal.

Anger had been a part of Harry's life for years. His parent's death, the Dursleys, Draco Malfoy and Dumbledore were all on the list of things that had caused him anger or rage. Even Hermione in their third year had been on the list after she had gotten Harry's Firebolt taken away.

However, with exception to his feelings towards Snape on the night of Dumbledore's murder, Harry couldn't remember being angrier than he was right now.

"Hermione, I was very clear about what I wanted."

"You were." Hermione admitted. "But I want to be clear on something. I want to catch Dolohov and Lestrange. I am willing to give my life to do that just like you are. The difference right now is that I believe that I am planning to avoid it and you are not."

"You think that I'm planning on going to my death?"

"You've already done it once!" Hermione shouted, her voice gaining an unusually harsh edge. "The situations are different but you are still you, Harry. If you believe that you can rid the world of Death Eaters, you will do it. You don't look at the odds because you've never had to. You're still a force of nature. Things around you just seem to simply bow away from you, giving you the room you need to accomplish what you want. Have you ever considered that one day that will stop? That one day the odds will decide that they've given you enough and it's time for you to pay back what you've earned."

"Hermione…."

"I have." Hermione said darkly. "I think about it every time we do something like this, especially after Rowle. Something about that changed you."

"That's not fair." Harry objected.

"You're right, it's not fair that it changed you but it did. Something about seeing me hurt changed how you looked at the world. Before that day, you believed in people. You believed that people should do the right thing, even if it was hard. You shouted Remus out of Grimmauld Place for trying to abandon his family when we could have used his help. You let Ron come back to us, even after he had abandoned us, because you knew that he would be helpful, even when I cautioned against it. You argued against allowing Dumbledore's Army to fight against the Death Eaters, even when it was clear that it was their fight as much as anyone."

Hermione was right. It wasn't a rare instance but this one hurt more than the rest of them had. Typically, when Hermione was right, she was correcting a minor flaw that she had seen in him before it could hurt him. But now? Now, she was pointing out something that had already been done.

"You don't believe in people anymore, Harry." Hermione said softly, taking his hand in hers. "In the past, you would have argued against the Aurors but then I would have talked to you and I would have laid out my reasons. You would have realized that the fear and the distrust that you felt was what Voldemort and what Dolohov want from us. You would have found a compromise between ensuring that we were protected without alienating ourselves from the rest of the world. You would have done something other than just simply shut me down. That was when I knew that things were different. Last night, you explained yourself but you never looked at the process. You did your best to console me that your course of action was the best and then you just sent me away and that was the end of that. That's not you."

"You're right." Harry replied, his voice stiff and distant. "You are right. But don't I have the right to be distrustful? After everything that's happened to me, don't I get the right to be protective over the people that I love?"

"You do." Hermione smiled, not missing the implication. "But you've also got to put your pride aside and think about those people. If you do everything you can to protect them and then are betrayed for that effort, I think you could live with that."

"I could."

"But if you distrusted those around you and isolated yourself and those you loved away from any additional protection and then we died as a result, that would destroy you. It would eat you up inside. I know because I've seen it. It's how you felt after the Battle. But this would be so much more personal. You would crawl back inside that bottle and never come out. Someone would break into Grimmauld Place years from now and find your body, a bottle in each hand."

The image that Hermione painted wasn't pretty but it was necessary. As much as Harry had been working his way back to the person he had been before, he knew that it was never going to happen. However, that didn't mean that he should stop trying. People kept saying that the Harry Potter at the Battle of Hogwarts had been inspiring, not because he was some sort of god but because he was a good person fighting for what he believed in with the help of those who believed in him. Harry knew what he believed in but who was fighting for him now?

"Fine." Harry barked shortly. "We bring the Aurors."

"I'm glad you're seeing reason."

"It's not reason." Harry countered. "It's trust. I may not trust them as individuals. But I trust you. I trust my team…...And I want to try and trust in people again and the only way I know how to do it is just to start doing it…..Merlin, that sounds corny as hell."

"It's not corny, Harry." Hermione said reassuringly. "It's the first sign of the old you that I remember seeing in months."

"Well, that's a start." Harry murmured. "Now, let's get in there and get the team in order."

"Yes, sir."

After the team's briefing, they instantly moved with Harry and Hermione bringing in people slowly and allowing them to disseminate over the entire town. After nearly twenty minutes of constant Apparition, the entirety of Harry's task force and the two teams of Aurors that were accompanying them were there, secretly surrounding the Dolohov.

Slowly, Harry and Hermione, accompanied by all of one of the Auror teams, moved slowly to the edge boundary with Augustus Rookwood, bounded at his hands and feet and magically levitated in front of them all. Once they got inside the house, he would be their guide to the likely places that Dolohov would hide. That, combined with Harry's rough knowledge of the house through the study of the blueprints, gave them the best chance to find Dolohov or Lestrange and end things quickly.

Once Harry's small force was in place, he checked with the others. Unlike in previous situations, Harry's task force had been assigned codenames. Harry and Ron weren't sure about the security of the Wireless system and couldn't guarantee that someone wouldn't be listening in. Therefore, no important details were to be discussed on it other than opposition troop movements and when things were discussed, newly formed codenames were to be used at all times.

"Jester, are in position?" Harry asked softly.

"In position and ready to obfuscate."

"Good." Harry replied. "Hawkeye?"

"I can see everything." Wood answered.

"Wonderful." Harry commented. "Containment, check-in."

"Viper in position." Daphne replied.

"Badger, ready." Hannah answered.

"Lion is ready. You ready for this, Lightning?" Neville replied, correctly using Harry's code.

"Lightning and Apollo are ready with Brutus in tow."

"Brutus?" Hermione asked softly. "As in Julius Caesar?"

"All three men were wizards, Hermione." Harry smirked. "How could I resist?"

"Fair enough." Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Are you ready to go?"

"Let's get this done." Harry said with a nod. "Teams one, two and three: we are a go. From here on out, Wireless silence is mandatory with the exception of Hawkeye and any emergency."

"Confirmed." came a chorus of voices in his ear.

"Let's go." Harry said to Hermione as each raised their wand. For the past few days, Harry and Hermione had been going over the easiest way to take the wards. Personally, Harry had favored a big entrance, taking down the second deepest layers in the wards, causing them to nearly collapse in one themselves. It would have done an incredible amount of damage to the house itself and could have caused fires in the forest area around the mansion.

Instead, Hermione convinced him that a more subtle approach was required. Now, Harry and Hermione worked to reveal and destroy the middle of the five layers. This layer served almost no purpose except that it was a bonding layer, allowing each of the other four to cross through each other. If they could remove this layer without incident, they would then be able to work through each of the other layers easily.

Unfortunately, these wards were rune based which meant that unlike the wards around Harry's house, they would not go away indefinitely. Even worse, they could not predict how long they would be down for. So, when Harry gave the word, everyone needed to be inside the wards instantly lest they be left outside, unable to assist. The most challenging task would be Wood. He had Harry's Firebolt with him and the moment the wards were down, he would be required to fly inside the wards at low altitude. From there, he could circle the property, likely while dodging fire from the Death Eaters, and call out their movements. It was going to be an exceedingly difficult task and had Harry not be directly needed on the ground, it was something that he would have volunteered for. As it was, Wood was a fantastic flier and would be more than up to the task.

Within a few moments, the middle layer of the ward collapsed under the pressure of Harry and Hermione's work.

"One down." Harry whispered into the Wireless. "All at the ready."

Seconds later, the other four wards were taken down with minimal effort. It was obvious that Dolohov was either expecting them or was severely overconfident in his ability not to be found. Harry certainly hoped it was the latter.

"Everyone in!"

Wand at the ready, Harry and Hermione pushed forward with their team and Rookwood following behind. With the hour being as late as it was, it was challenging for Harry to see but Harry could barely see the mansion in the distance.

More specifically, he could see the lights in the manor begin to rise as the Death Eaters apparently became alerted to their presence.

"Double time." Harry barked as he took off at a light jog. "Jester, it's your show."

"About fucking time."

Almost instantly, Harry saw a bright light erupt through the trees. Suddenly, the sky was filled with fireworks but these were so different from the ones that Harry had seen from the Weasleys before. As they exploded in the sky, each became a golden wizard, riding a broomstick, that would start to divebomb the house and the forest around it, lighting larger portions of the wood around them on fire.

A few times as they approached the house, Harry had to douse flames that blocked their path. Normally, Harry would have argued with George that his distraction was a bit too good. However, that was before Harry got a closer look at the golden riders.

Stopping to marvel at the magic that George had created, Harry couldn't help but notice that the riders themselves looked familiar. In fact, they looked a lot like George himself.

Except that this version of George still had two ears.

"Fred?"

"You're damn straight." George barked.

Chuckling at the thought that George would use the image of his deceased twin as part of the distraction, he couldn't help but feel that it was appropriate.

The ones that love us never really leave us. You can always find them...in here.

For some reason, Sirius' words had never felt more appropriate as he watched Fred Weasley bombard the Dolohov estate, creating a panic among the Death Eaters. Now, they were within a hundred yards of the mansion itself and Harry could see the crowd forming around the outside of the mansion.

Even in the distance, Harry spotted Dolohov screaming orders to those around him.

"Viper, Badger, Lion: make sure those wards are back up." Harry said as he locked his gaze on Dolohov. There was no way he was letting Dolohov get out of here.

"Will do."

Slowly, Harry marched towards the house. He knew that the odds still weren't great but the distraction that George and Fred had provided was excellent. No one noticed as a team of Aurors, led by Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, moved in on them like a tiger stalking its prey.

They also didn't notice when Harry leveled his wand at the base of the stairs.

"Bombarda Maxima!"

In a second, panic became pandemonium as the stairs at the front of the manor disappeared, blown into thousands of tiny pieces by a single spell. Harry watched as Dolohov was thrown backwards before standing up uneasily and racing back inside his house. As Dolohov had gotten up, he noticed that a large portion of the crowd that had been standing on the steps didn't. Whether they were dead or gravely injured, Harry didn't know. For a moment, it shocked him that he was capable of such a violent action. But Harry knew that he had done the right thing. It may have not been a good thing to do but it was what was needed.

Above all else, The Death Eaters could not win.

A few of the Death Eaters stood and attempted to fight back but Harry's team made short work of them, entering the house with little resistance. As they entered, Harry turned to Rookwood.

"Where would he go?"

"Likely to the basement. There's a bunker in there somewhere that he told me about once."

Knowing that the stairs to the basement were on the far side of the first floor, Harry took off at a sprint, only barely slowing down to dispatch of a few Death Eaters that attempted to stand in his way. None of them would be getting up anytime soon.

Putting on the brakes briefly, Harry was still at a near sprint as he raced down the stairs, the rest of his team struggling to catch up. But as Harry reached the basement level, he could tell that Rookwood had been right.

At the far end of the dark basement was Dolohov, Lestrange and a group of Death Eaters, marching with a purpose towards the bunker door that Rookwood had mentioned. Rather than waiting to catch up with them, Harry lined up his wand.

"Diffindo!"

The shot was perfect. Rather than hitting anyone in the group, it fired straight passed them and hit the door to the bunker, which was immediately separated from its hinges. Turning around, Dolohov silently ordered an attack with a silent curse that fired towards Harry. Blocking it, Harry stepped forward and countered.

As the duel continued, Harry was suddenly very thankful for the Aurors. They were definitely better duelers than Dolohov's team and within just a few moments, they had taken out nearly all of Dolohov's team.

In the end, all that remained of Dolohov's team was Dolohov and Lestrange, backed up against the remains of the bunker door.

"Give up, Dolohov." Harry growled. "It's done. You're done. Just give up and I won't be forced to kill you."

Dolohov responded with a severing curse that missed Harry by a rather wide margin.

"You missed." Harry taunted.

"Who said that I was aiming for you?"

Suddenly, several flashes of green light hit as Harry watched the entirety of his Auror team taken down in single moment. Turning around, Harry saw that Rookwood's bonds had been cut, the obvious intended target of Dolohov's severing curse.

Before Harry could even countered, Dolohov hit Harry in the back of the head with a Stunner, knocking him unconscious.

The next thing Harry knew, he was waking up. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings but when he did, he was not surprised to see where he was.

He was in the Dolohov bunker which had obviously served as some sort of prison at some point. The cell around Harry was a solid layer of glass that had been enchanted to cause immense pain if touched. Even if Harry had wanted to break it (which he guessed was nearly impossible), the pain it would cause would probably have killed him.

However, as he really began to wake up from his stupor, he noticed two things. The most important was that he was alone, which meant that Hermione wasn't in the cell with him.

The second was that someone was watching him. Now, the fact that someone was watching him wasn't a surprise.

But the identity certainly was. Harry thought that he would never see that sneer again.

"Surprised, Potter?"

Stepping into the light completely, Harry stood and came face-to-face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"How?"

"Antonin works for me." Malfoy said simply. "They all do. Rookwood, Lestrange, Dolohov: they're all my people."

"Why would they work for you?"

"Because I was ideally placed." Malfoy laughed. "Of course they wouldn't have worked for me before. The son of a disgraced fomer Death Eater and known informate for the new Ministry? But then…"

"Then, I placed you on my team."

"Yes, you did." Malfoy said with a triumphant grin. "Once I had you, Potter, I had them. At first, they didn't know who it was that was feeding them information."

"What kind of information?"

"Where you were looking, where you were staying, who was on your team, who you were suspicious of: just about anything I could tell them." Malfoy said as he took a seat on a stool next to the cell. "You never had the opportunity to be suspicious of me. The entire time you had your task force, everything was always the same. That's because from the very moment you asked me onto your task force, I knew that I could use it to my advantage."

"I would ask why but I can guess why."

"Can you, Potter?" Malfoy drawled. "Probably some nonsense about Pureblood power or tradition. No, it's much simpler than that."

"Really?"

"Yes." Malfoy whispered. "You see, before you destroyed Voldemort, my family had power. The Malfoy name was the most powerful in the country. No one dared to cross us. Then, Voldemort returned and my family began a slow decline. First, my father was locked up. Then, I failed to kill Dumbledore. It all led to the Battle of Hogwarts. I was actually rooting for you then, Harry. Do you know why?"

"You saw Voldemort as the reason for your family's decline. If he was gone, you could begin to rebuild."

"You are a bright one, aren't you?" Malfoy said mockingly. "I realize now that I underestimated you during our time in school. I was jealous of the power that you controlled without even realizing it."

"I never wanted that power."

"That's what makes you weak, Potter. You could be Minister of Magic tomorrow. You could dictate to the world what you want and the world would make it so. It's that kind of power that I always craved. Once Voldemort was gone, I figured I would try and make my way back into the world by proving my value. So, I was patient. I gave the Ministry information on every Death Eater I knew anything about. I knew that it was going to be a long road but I figured that one day, when the spectre of Tom Riddle no longer hung over us all, that I could become even more powerful than my father had become."

Watching Draco Malfoy in this light was an exceedingly unsettling experience for Harry. For years, Malfoy had been petulant and irksome but Harry never truly valued him as a threat. But now, Malfoy was self-aware, something that had prevented him from ever being a true challenge to Harry. This meant that he knew how the world viewed him.

"But, when you came back into my life, I saw a way back to the top. First, I would manipulate both you and the remaining Death Eaters into a long deadlock. Then, I would eliminate you and Granger. From there, I could get rid of the three-headed snake that was the Death Eater leadership. In fact, you should be grateful. I already had Rookwood take care of Lestrange."

Looking at the next cell, Harry could see that there was a body there and it did certainly belong to Rodolphus Lestrange.

"You see I know that they don't respect me for the power that I wield but they do know that I am the holder of all the keys. I know how you work and I know how they work. They know that in an instant, I could hand you everything and you would be able to take them down without even trying. So, even though they may not like, they take my orders. Soon enough, I'll order one to kill the other and then in some grand and very public fashion, I'll kill the other. Sure, it will be staged but it will do everything that you wanted, Potter. I'll have dealt with the Death Eater threat in its entirety."

A year ago, Harry may have considered the madness that Malfoy was spewing and the thought horrified him. Regardless of how they were taken down, Harry would have agreed to this without a second glance.

Now? He looked at the plan as something that he knew that he need to stop. Even if Malfoy did take down the Death Eaters, he would invariably consolidate the power vacuum that they left into something far worse. He would take the victory that he won for ending the Death Eater threat and use it to gain back wealth and political legacy. Sooner rather than later, Draco Malfoy would be a candidate for Minister of Magic.

And he would win.

Regardless of what he said, Malfoy would seek to return to the old ways. He would attempt to repeal all of the work that Hermione had done seeking equality for all witches and wizards. He would lead a great renaissance of Pureblood propaganda. But this wouldn't be like before. The halfblood and Muggleborn populations wouldn't stand by and watch anymore. To have the right that they fought for taken away wasn't something they would take lightly.

They would stand up for themselves and in the end, Harry saw the darkest of potential outcomes: civil war among his people. Certainly, this was the most extreme of possibilities but in Harry's mind, it wasn't something that he could risk.

Above all of else, Draco Malfoy needed to be stopped.

Unfortunately for Harry, his train of thought was derailed when he heard a scream.

Hermione's scream.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry growled.

"Apparently, the Mudblood instructed her Auror teams to surround the property if you and her didn't exit within an hour."

"So just Apparate away."

"There's only one problem with that. Someone on your team, likely the Greengrass blood traitor, altered the wards while they were on the property. Now, no one can Apparate in...or out. We know that Granger would know how to fix this. So far, she has been….unwilling. So, I tasked Antonin with convincing her."

Draco's point was accented with another scream from Hermione.

"Unless you want to help." Draco offered.

Despite everything in him telling him to give up and give the information to Hermione, he knew that she was strong and that she would fight her way out of this. So, Harry stood firm and silent.

"Too bad." Malfoy whispered. "I've seen what Dolohov can do when he doesn't get what he wants. Horrific stuff, mate."

With that, Malfoy turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. Seconds later, his blood boiled over and without thinking, he pounded his fists on the glass in front of him. Instantly, pain unlike he had ever known poured through his system until once again, Harry Potter lay on the floor unconscious.


	24. Chapter 24

With a complete lack of natural light of any kind, it would tough for Harry to judge the passage of time in his cell. The lack of people passing through the area didn't help either. However, based on a lot of sheer guessing and the few hints that he had been able to hear from people outside his cell, he believed that he had been inside the cell for at least a full day.

During that time, no one had visited other than Malfoy himself. Most of the time, he stopped by just to "check-in." Usually, this was accompanied by another series of screams from Hermione. Every time he heard her scream, he was forced to knuckle down and push back the urge to give Malfoy whatever he wanted. Certainly he could have taken down the wards himself.

But he knew that Hermione was strong and she would hold out until help arrived. Unfortunately, Harry couldn't figure out when that would be. Based on a few lingering conversations that Harry had heard, the rest of his team had managed to escape and was currently surrounding the property with almost the entirety of the Auror Office. Why they didn't just come in and take the castle, he wasn't sure but Harry wouldn't put it past Malfoy to threaten either Harry, Hermione or both if anyone stepped foot inside the wards.

If that were the case, it could be awhile. The wards themselves wouldn't be a problem. The Ministry had plenty of people who could have taken down the wards with ease. The problem was that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger could die if they weren't careful. So, with the added wards meaning that no one could Apparate and the forces surrounding the estate, Harry imagined the situation as some sort of elaborately magical mexican standoff.

Harry turned as the door to the cell block screeched open and Malfoy entered, looking tired. Even though Harry knew the pain that Hermione was likely in, the fact that she was openly causing Malfoy distress was encouraging at least.

"You've looked better." Harry said snidely.

"I could say the same for you, Potter." Malfoy snapped back. "You don't partisan your feelings well enough. You're trying to put on a good show but in the back of your mind, you're too worried about the Mudblood to really go toe-to-toe with me."

"Do not call her that." Harry growled through gritted teeth.

"Or what?" Malfoy replied with a taunt as he placed a hand on the glass in front of him, showing just how in control he was. "I told you yesterday, I don't care about blood anymore. Of course, I still think that being Pureblood is better than being a filthy Muggleborn. But Granger proved years ago that there's no basis to the idea that Purebloods are inherently better at magic."

"So why do you still use that word?"

Draco smirked. "Because it gets a rise out of you."

"Are you kidding me!?" Harry roared. "You're in the next room torturing her for information and you come in here to bait me!?"

"Of course." Malfoy replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"WHY?"

"Because it's a way to torture you as well. The longer you're in here, Potter, the longer time you spend knowing that all the pain Granger is going through is your fault. You could help me with the wards in minutes. The only reason you aren't is out of some misplaced sense of moral justice that's telling you that if you prevent me from getting what I want, then you've won."

Malfoy leaned forward towards the glass, a grim smile on his face.

"Tell me you've won when I kill Granger because you wouldn't give in."

Suddenly, Malfoy turned towards the door and snapped. Immediately following the sound, two men that Harry didn't recognize carried Hermione into the room. Malfoy vanished one portion of Harry's cell wall, allowing them to bring her into the room, dropping her unceremoniously on the floor before leaving again.

"You'll have an hour, Potter. Then we will get the information we want from the two of you. I don't really care to kill you both. Maybe one of you will decide to save the other, maybe you won't. Either way, in an hour, I'll be back here and I had better get some answers."

Malfoy turned and marched out of the room, followed by his two lackeys who shut the door behind them with a deafening thud. Instantly, Harry dropped down to prop Hermione's head on his knees. She looked terrible. She had a series of cuts running up and down her arms, some thin, others deep and serrated. It was very clear that they had been exceedingly rough on her.

But thankfully, she remained awake.

"How are you doing?" she whispered as she looked up at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Nope, Hermione." she said with a strange grin.

"Did you just make a joke right now?"

"I tried." Hermione said weakly. "It wasn't very good."

"Who did this to you?"

"Dolohov, mostly. Lestrange was there for a bit before Rookwood killed him. Rookwood got a bit in."

"Malfoy?"

"He just stood and watched. I think he enjoys that more than anything. He always fashioned himself as some sort of grand manipulator."

"This is bad, Hermione. Somehow, Draco Malfoy of all people managed to unite these three men."

"Until he had Rookwood murder one."

"Well, there is that."

The pair sat silent for a few moments as he attempted to collect their thoughts. Both of them knew that they were in trouble. Even if it meant that they died, the Ministry would eventually have to cut their losses and take Malfoy down. Sure, it would publicly be seen as a loss but the Minister and Aurors would know better.

They would know that they took down the largest threat since Voldemort himself and that people, good people, sometimes had to die to stop them.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Yeah, it is." Harry confirmed. "But we've been in worse situations."

"Malfoy Manor."

"It's kind of ironic, isn't it?" Harry asked with a dark chortle. "Malfoy sort of saves us at Malfoy Manor but then betrays us nearly two years later."

"Did he really betray us? I mean, was he ever actually on our side?"

"From what he says, yes." Harry nodded slowly. "When he joined the Ministry, he did it to further himself but he still hadn't sided with the Death Eaters. But when I offered the position on our team, he knew that he stood more to gain if he played us."

"So not really, no."

"He's not on their side either."

"How can you say that?" Hermione said harshly.

"Because that would imply that Malfoy takes sides other than his own." Harry explained. "Malfoy sided with the Death Eaters originally. That is until it looked like they were about to lose and then the Malfoys abandoned them. After the war, there were no sides to take. He simply joined us because he knew that we were the only way back to the top. But when I gave him the opportunity to press his advantage, he gave our information to the Death Eaters to give himself the opportunity to rise faster. When he says this has nothing to do with politics or blood, I believe him. This is a power grab, plain and simple."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"It shouldn't." Harry warned her. "People who believe in things at least have a code. They have something that binds them, something they are devoted to but Malfoy doesn't have any of that. With his family name effectively destroyed, Malfoy is loyal only to himself."

"Well, maybe we can use that against him in the end."

"That's if we ever get out of here."

"Which appears to be unlikely at the current moment." Malfoy said suddenly, causing Harry and Hermione to turn and face him suddenly as he stood in the doorway. "It appears as if the Ministry is readying their forces. They're setting up camp just on the outside of the wards. They're going to try and starve us out."

"Are you prepared for that?" Harry asked.

"No." Malfoy admitted darkly. "I have to admit: you did catch us a bit off guard, Potter. We never thought that you would use Rookwood. He was only able to inform us in the night just before you left. It gave us a couple of hours to prepare but not enough to really stockpile."

Malfoy waived his wand and the wall of the cell in front of them disappeared. Harry considered trying to make a break for it but with Hermione in the state she was in, he knew better.

"This means that we are really going to need those wards taken care of." Malfoy said as he kneeled to face Hermione. "And since you're being difficult, we're going to try another tactic."

With a snap, three Death Eaters entered the room and grabbed Harry. He did everything he could to fight back but without his wand, the three men easily overpowered him and dragged him out of the room. The last look he got from Hermione before he was pulled out of the room was one of terror.

Hastily, the three men dragged Harry to a room three doors down where a single chair sat in the middle of an empty room. The men threw Harry into the chair before strapping him in. Once they were done, Dolohov stepped into the room and whipped his wand towards the chairs, causing the restraints to buckle and put so tight they each drew blood. Rather than give Dolohov the satisfaction of a scream, Harry ground his teeth together and swore silently under his breath.

"You are a tough man, Potter." Dolohov said softly. "You're going to make this fun."

A moment later, Malfoy walked into the room and stood before Harry.

"I don't have time for this anymore, Potter. I've already wasted a day and I'm not about to waste anymore time. You will tell us how to remove the wards or we'll break every bone in your body. Then, we'll heal you and do it over again. We'll push you to the edge of death for as long as I have to. You won't die but you will feel like it."

"Why can't you remove the wards, Malfoy?" Harry said with a smirk. "If you're the great wizard that you think you are, it should be a piece of cake."

For a second, Malfoy stood still. Then, with a single whip of his wand, he hit Harry with The Cruciatus Curse, causing every muscle fiber in Harry's body to scream out in pain. Once again, it took a concerted effort by Harry not to scream. Time stopped as the curse coursed through his body until finally, Malfoy relinquished his hold.

Leaning down, Malfoy spoke at barely above a whisper. Never before had Malfoy sounded as menacing as he did.

"Nevermind why I can't remove the wards. You will or Granger will and if not, then you will give me the satisfaction of hearing you scream before you die."

Standing, Malfoy turned to Dolohov.

"Don't bother starting slow. Just get me that information."

"I will." Dolohov replied darkly. "He won't last an hour."

Dolohov was right. Harry didn't last an hour.

He lasted three days.

Three days had passed since Harry had been placed in the chair that he was tied to. He would say that he was sitting in but that wasn't exactly true. The chair had long since been removed from the floor and now lay in the corner of the room with Harry still tied to it. The amount of frustration he had been able to cause Dolohov and Malfoy was a moral victory, but only just.

He knew that he was close to breaking. The sheer amount of injury that he had sustained over the past few days would have killed a normal man. Some may have called it lucky that Harry was anything but lucky. Thankfully for those people, they weren't in Harry's shoes today.

For the last few hours, they had left Harry alone, bleeding and nearly broken on the floor. Part of Harry wondered if they were going back to Hermione. Even with the pain that he was in, he would have rather they attacked him than her.

Of course, she was likely to feel the same way.

Though Harry couldn't see the door open, he certainly heard it as he squealed before slamming shut. Gently, someone came to pick up the chair and place back in its location in the middle of the room. As he was pushed upright, Harry was able to get a good look at Malfoy up close. He looked tired and malnourished, much like he felt. In fact, if not for the cuts and bruises that certainly lined Harry, he imagined they wouldn't look much different.

The stress of a blockade will do that to a man.

"I'm done with you, Potter." Malfoy said tiredly. "I want the procedure to remove the wards."

"No." Harry said simply, finally able to spit out a pool of blood that had been forming in his mouth. It just so happened to land on Draco's dragon skin boots. At that, Malfoy struck Harry in the jaw with his fist, a first for that.

"Tell me."

"No."

"This is truly your last chance, Potter. If you don't tell me, I move you into the next room."

"What's in the next room?"

"A pine box where we'll put your body after it's done."

"It? What kind of it?"

"You'll see." Draco said with a kind of gleeful madness that was very unnerving to Harry. "Last time, how do I take down the wards?"

Deciding that death was better than allowing Malfoy the escape he desired, Harry shrugged half-heartedly. "I couldn't really tell you."

Finally, the rage that Harry had seen peaking through for days boiled over. With a rough tug, Malfoy grabbed the back of the chair and dragged Harry from the room. Sure enough, the next door was open and Harry was set inside.

This room was much different than the previous room. In the middle of the room was a single glass panel. From what Harry could see, it didn't seem to serve any purpose but Harry doubted that was actually the case.

"The wards?"

"Will remain up." Harry said resolutely.

"I'm sorry."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry that it's come to this." Draco said honestly. "I never thought I would ever apologize to Harry Potter but I will for this. However, you have to understand that I will regain my family's legacy, no matter the cost."

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, suddenly very concerned.

"This."

With a tap of his wand against the glass, the room changed instantly. Harry realized that it was some sort of magical barrier because on the other side of the barrier was something that Harry never thought he was would see again.

A Dementor.

Draco walked out of the room but his voice could still be heard as he spoke to Harry.

"The wall will prevent the Dementor from Kissing you. However, it won't prevent the cold or the images that I'm sure you're going to start seeing relatively quickly."

Sure enough, the sounds of his mother's voice were already starting to creep in.

"I'll check back in an hour and see how you're doing?"

"Ma-Malfoy!" Harry said, his teeth already chattering. Very rarely did Harry feel something so terrifying that he would rather run than face it.

Being trapped in a room with a Dementor was certainly one of those things.

Thankfully, as the room started to feel with ghostly versions of his deceased friends and family, Harry was able to apply something that he had learned more over the past year: Occlumency. Simply reading from a book had allowed to learn the art without the pressure of Snape sneering over him.

So, rather than face the images of his family and friends dying on repeat, Harry buried them. He hit them behind several complex layers of Occlumency shield and hoped that they would hold.

And they did.

For nearly an hour, Harry Potter sat and fought a mental battle against the Dementor in front of him. In the end, he won….in a way. The monster in front of him wasn't able to torture him with the images of his past. In fact, he wasn't able to torture him with anything.

The shields that Harry had placed in his mind were done so well that, under the constant pressure of the dementors, Harry forgot that he had placed them there. As the dementor continued to exert its influence over Harry Potter, he slowly buffered his mind from the feeling of anything painful, anything that the Dementor could use to hurt him.

His parents' death….

Cedric...Sirius...Dumbledore.

Remus.

Tonks.

Fred.

Now, these memories felt as if they belonged to someone else. Anyone else.

But certainly not to Harry Potter.

At the same time, Hermione was sitting in her cell, still attempting to recuperate from the damage that Dolohov had done to her. Thankfully, no one had bothered her in the last three day and this meant an opportunity to rest a bit. For the most part, she had slept and drank bits of the water they had given her.

Despite the lack of nutrition, it was on the third day that Hermione finally began to feel like herself again. Thankfully, most of the pain Dolohov had caused had been superficially or magical in nature. It meant a lot of pain and exhaustion at the time but also meant a shorter period of time before she was back at one hundred percent.

This, plus one singularly stupid moment, gave Hermione the opportunity she needed to attempt an escape. Ever since they had taken Harry, Malfoy had left a single guard inside the room with her who, in theory, was supposed to watch her every move. Instead, he mostly slept.

This allowed Hermione to take a rock that she had found in her cell and carve a very specific rune into the floor of her cell without the guard knowing. When the rune was done, all it took was for Hermione to fake dying and the trick was complete. Seeing her pass out, the guard vanished part of the wall and entered. Sneaking a peak, Hermione lunged from the floor and grabbed his wand before instantly pressing it against the rune on the floor, activating it. The rune, a variation on a Full Body Bind that locked everything but the man's head in place, caused the man to instantly stop, frozen in place. Standing up, Hermione place her wand under his throat.

"Where are our wands?"

"Last I'd heard, he had given them to Rookwood. He was using them as a trophy of sorts." the guard whimpered, obviously lacking dedication.

"Where is Harry?" Hermione growed, pressing her wand harder to the man's neck.

"Three rooms down on the right side."

"Thank you." Hermione whispered before silently Stunning him. As he collapsed to the floor, Hermione worked a quick bit of magic that, for a short time, would convince anyone who looked inside the cell that Hermione was still in the cell. Unfortunately, if a person looked too long, they would eventually see through the spell and notice the unconscious guard on the floor.

Peeking her head into the hallway, Hermione saw no one and pressed forward. Three quick lunges and Hermione was at the door the guard had mentioned. Instantly, she ripped the door open and what she saw inside was among the most horrifying things she had ever witnessed. Harry was staring blankly at the ceiling, his body falling and rising with the dementor across from him. It was obvious that the glass was preventing the Kiss from occurring but everything short of that had already happened.

As Hermione fought through the cold herself, she looked into Harry's eyes and saw that he was completely blanked out, as if he were unconscious with his eyes open. Sighing deeply, Hermione went to release his binds when a curse shot across the room at her. Looking up, Hermione was shocked to see none other than Augustus Rookwood looking at her.

"I'm supposed to go to Malfoy if you escape." Rookwood sneered. "But I think I'll just take you out instead."

"Unlikely." Hermione said cooly before leveling her stolen wand. "Colloportus!"

The spell hit the door behind Rookwood and slammed it into him, throwing him to the floor in front of him while also locking the room to outsiders. Within seconds, Rookwood stumbled to his feet and aimed at Hermione, firing a Severing Hex that Hermione blocked easily.

However, despite Hermione's power, the fact that she was using a stolen wand and hadn't eaten in three days caught up with her quickly. She was able to counter that with better skill and ability but it made what should have been a rather quick fight into a brawl.

Rookwood fought with a very strange style for a Death Eater. Instead of the curses and Dark hexes that most Death Eaters preferred, Rookwood fought differently preferring the strange use of Charms and Transfiguration. Having been used to fighting the standard Dark wizard, Rookwood was becoming a real challenge to deal with.

Thankfully, Rookwood was also arrogant. It meant that he fought wildly and without abandon. It also meant he left himself open to counters. So, when he attempted to Transfigure a bit of debris into a python, Hermione took advantage. Mid-transfiguration, she Banished the debris back at Rookwood, sending the python flying at him. Rather than banish it back or vanish it entirely, Rookwood dodged and that was plenty of time for Hermione to send a Bludgeoning Charm that hit Rookwood and sent him through the pane of glass behind him.

Almost instantly, Hermione could feel the cold of the Dementor rushing through the air. Stepping forward, Hermione grabbed Rookwood's wand, along with Harry's and her own. Knowing what was about to happen, Hermione grabbed Harry and raced out of the room. As they left, she heard the screams of a man losing his soul. She would never wish that upon anyone and immediately felt guilt for what she had done.

However, guilt was instantly outweighed by fear when she realized that Harry wasn't cooperating. In fact, he wasn't doing much of anything. Still, she would move forward. Using a Levitating Charm on him, she dragged him through the semi-abandoned basement until she found the entrance to the bunker. Thankfully, it was guarded by only a pair of the weakest Death Eaters. She was easily able to defeat each of them with a quick Stunner and they were able to pass through. Once through, Hermione was able to find the original runestone that she had altered during the first fight with Dolohov. She knew that the changes would be felt by Malfoy, which meant that to gain her own escape, she would also have to ensure Malfoy's. For a moment, she considered trying to wake Harry up and fight their way out but she knew that neither of them were in good shape.

Instead, she knew she was left with only one other option. Begrudgingly, she made the alterations to the runestone that would allow her to Apparate out of the bunker. However, the rub lie with the fact that this would also allow Malfoy to escape. Regardless, one look at the blank stare that Harry was giving her and she knew that they needed to be out of there as quickly as they could. She waited for a few moments, allowing the alterations to the runestone to take effect. Once that was complete, she Apparated Harry and herself to the safety of St. Mungo's, away from the horrifying place that the Dolohov estate had become.

Four days of agonizing waiting. Almost instantly after bringing Harry to St. Mungo's, the stress of what he had just endured finally got him, causing him to pass out. For a time, the Healers at St. Mungo were concerned that he would die.

Now, they were concerned that he would never wake up. Four days with no sign of any real mental activity, no sign of magical fluctuations, nothing.

These days were some of the hardest of Hermione's life. Due to the unique nature of Harry's injuries along with the high profile someone like Harry Potter brought onto him, he was being treated in a private area with the hospital, which meant no visitors.

Instead, Hermione was forced to wait in a private waiting area along with several other well-wishers. Most of the Weasleys had floated in and out at some point along with the entirety of the task force. Of course, Kingsley had made an appearance and Luna had appeared briefly. But for most of the time that she was there, it was just her and Ron.

Normally, it would have been torture to be near Ron for this long but for what she needed, Ron was the perfect person. Despite everything that the pair of them had gone through, they both understood just what Harry meant to the other. Quite unlike the Ron that Hermione had remembered, he said very little, simply allowing Hermione to rest her shoulder on his as she hoped and prayed for news.

Four days, she waited, never leaving the hospital for a minute. She couldn't bare it if Harry woke up and she wasn't there for him.

So, when Penelope Clearwater, Percy's girlfriend but also the Healer who had been handling Harry's case, finally made a second appearance three days later, Hermione was there.

"Hermione, Ron." Penelope said, greeting each of them as she sat on the seat across from them.

"How is he?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Before I give you his status, I would like to let you know exactly what happened. According to you, you found Harry in a room with a Dementor, correct?"

"Yes." Hermione blurted out.

"Right. Obviously, we're not able to look at the glass that you had previously described to us but if I had to guess, I would say that it was enchanted to allow the effect of the Dementor to pass through but prevent the Dementor from sensing Harry, denying it the ability to Kiss Harry."

"That's bloody horrifying." Ron commented, his voice hushed as if he was afraid to speak too loud.

"Indeed." Penelope replied sadly. "With this being the case, it looks as if Harry implemented a series of Occlumency shields to block out the Dementor."

"Was he successful?"

"Most definitely." Penelope agreed, although Hermione sensed that something wasn't right. "However, while the shields prevented the Dementor from forcing Harry to relive some of his worst memories, the pressure that the Dementor's influence created in Harry's mind…..it broke him to some degree."

"I'm sorry-what did you just say?"

"As the Dementor continued to press against his shields, Harry continued to build more, layering them on top of the other. However, under the stress of the situation, Harry began to forget to include the most recent layer of shields as he built on top. Eventually, it appears that he had forgotten that he had put the first ones on at all."

"How will this affect him, Penny?" Ron asked softly.

"I'm sorry." Penelope sighed, a single tear in her eye. "At this point, Harry only remembers who he is the most basic of ways."

"What do you mean? What does that mean?" Hermione asked, a rage building in her. Harry had already sacrificed so much. How was it possible that something like this could happen to him?"

"Harry has all of his memories but the multiple layers of Occlumency shields prevent him from accessing them in any sort of meaningful way. It's rather like looking into a Pensieve full of someone else's memories, you see them but you don't feel them in the same way that you do your own."

"Is this something that could be fixed?" Ron said, his voice haggard and rough.

"I'm not certain." Penelope admitted as she stood and started pacing the room. "This is a strain of magic that is almost forgotten by the everyday witch and wizard. Occlumency is just something that we don't look into anymore. We developed the Pensieve about two hundred years ago and then just stopped looking into this kind of magic."

"So there's no one?"

"There may be one person."

Instantly, all three participants in the conversation jumped to their feet as they heard the voice of their old Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall.

"Professor-Headmaster!" Ron shouted uncomfortably.

"Headmistress." Hermione corrected calmly before turning back to Minerva. "Pardon me, Headmistress but what are you doing here?"

"I was informed that Mister Potter had been awoken." she said as she took a seat, which the other three immediately echoed in action. "However, he does not seem to have personal access to his memories?"

"How do you know this?" Penelope asked.

"Much like Albus, I find myself in a position where people trust my opinion. They also know that I do know quite a few talented witches and wizards, some on what you may call the fringe of society."

"Who contacted you?" Hermione asked.

"Poppy." Minerva said shortly. "As a former Head Healer, there are many that consult with her. Someone working with Miss Clearwater must have spoken with her."

"I don't care who spoke with her, we're glad to see you." Penelope replied. "You sound as if you know someone who has experience with this."

"Oh no, I don't believe anyone has experience with this." Minerva countered before adding. "However, there is a man who has been researching the magic of memories and the mind for decades. Much of his work is considered to be theoretical at best but if there is a man who has the audacity to attempt to fix a man who has lost connection to his memories, it's him."

"Pardon me, Headmistress, but who is he?" Hermione asked in concern.

"Apollo Trelawney."

"Trelawney?"

"Sybill's father." Minerva explained. "He may not have received the gift that Cassandra or Sybill seem to have but he was an extraordinarily brilliant man."

"Was?" Ron questioned.

"He is several years older than I am, Mr. Weasley. While I do believe that he is a brilliant man, the last time I saw him, much of his awareness of the world was gone and that was several years ago."

For a few minutes, it seemed as though there was a chance out of this terrible nightmare. Now, it looked as if that door had closed.

"Thankfully, when I cut Divination from the school's permanent class roster, Sybill returned home to take care of her father."

"You cut Divination?" Ron asked.

"After the war, there was a severe decrease in the number of students at the school." Minerva explained softly. "Some graduated, some elected not to return and some were dead. The lack of students meant a lack of money from the Ministry, which led to my decision to eliminate some of the lesser classes for the time being."

"That's…..unfortunate." Ron replied with a smirk, which caused Hermione to smack him before turning back to McGonagall.

"You are seriously suggesting that we go and speak to Sybill Trelawney and her deranged father?"

"I'm suggesting the only thing I know that can bring Harry back from the place that he is now. Whether or not you choose to heed my advice is not my choice. We all know how close the two of you were to him. We can give you all of the information we can, but in the end, the decision falls to the pair of you."

Minerva stood, having said her piece and marched to the edge of the room before stopping briefly.

"Harry trusts you both." Minerva said softly. "In fact, I'm fairly certain that you may be the only people that he still trusts. Please understand that fact….for the rest of us who still love him."

As Minerva made her way out of the room, Penelope also excused herself to go and check on Harry, leaving Hermione alone in the room with Ron. For a couple moments, neither uttered a word as they absorbed this new information.

"This is your choice, Hermione." Ron whispered.

"What? How could you say that?"

"Because you're the one that never faltered." Ron answered, the look on his face the very image of someone whose heart was actively breaking. "Harry and I are friends and he probably still trusts me more than most but there's no question who is his most important friend."

"Well, ok."

"Not to mention the fact that you love him." Ron smirked.

"Excuse me!?" Hermione exclaimed, smacking Ron in the shoulder.

"Hit me all you want," Ron replied, defending himself from Hermione's blow. "but for those who have seen the two of you recently, it's pretty clear, Hermione."

"You're imagining things." Hermione countered, not sounding as if she totally believed herself.

"Maybe." Ron mused quietly. "Maybe not. Either way, I'm with you all the way. Whatever Harry needs, we do."

Ron's show of support was a rare moment between the two where Hermione didn't feel any pressure from Ron. Over the last year, he seemed to have matured, cultivating a better understanding of who he was and who he wasn't. This led to a more self-aware but also self-assured Ronald Weasley. He didn't seem to clamor for attention or question why he wasn't involved in the decision making process for every choice.

If this situation had happened a year earlier, Ron would have fought for control, seeking to dominate the process while they ultimately did the same thing. This time, Ron was well aware of the new closeness between Hermione and Harry and had accepted it. Certainly, there was a part of him that was hurt by it but rather than let it boil over, he acknowledged it as a fact and moved on.

With all of that in mind, Hermione was once again thankful to have Ronald Weasley by her side.

"We have to go see them, Ron." Hermione moaned softly. "I don't see any other way. This isn't a kind of magic that most people deal with."

"Then let's get some more information from McGonagall and get the hell out of here."

"I want to talk to him first." Hermione objected.

"Hermione-"

"I know, Ron, I know. It's not going to be good. It's going to upset me but I need to see him."

"OK." Ron sighed.

Marching upstairs, Hermione spoke to Penelope once again. She was informed that Harry was, in fact, awake and responsive. However, she was not going to like what she saw.

It didn't matter to Hermione. She needed to see him again. She needed to see what he had lost so that she knew just what she was fighting for.

So, when Hermione walked into the room alone and joined its sole occupant who sat in a chair in the corner of the room, Hermione knew exactly what she was walking into.

"Hermione." Harry acknowledged her softly.

"Harry, how are you?" Hermione asked as she took the chair next to him.

"Physically, I'm fine."

"What about mentally?"

"Also fine. Just different."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking for his perspective on the matter.

For a moment, Harry simply sat, frozen. Then, he turned and spoke. It was strange to hear him speak. Although he had never liked the sound of his own voice, Harry had always been an expressive person, using his hands when he spoke and the emotion with which he spoke had typically been spread all over his face.

Now, he sat stiff, hardly moving at all and his face was still as if he felt nothing at all.

"I am sane. I have suffered no mental break to speak of."

"You just can't remember anything."

"Not true. I remember everything." Harry said firmly. "There is a difference between remembering something and living something. As far as I can explain, my memories are like watching a story of someone else's life. I can be told all of the information. Someone can explain to me who each person is and their importance. But ultimately, as much as you attempt to empathize, there is a fundamental difference between remembering those memories and having lived them yourself."

"And you didn't live them?"

"I'm aware that I did. However, that connection has been cut off somehow. I have been told that I used extensive Occlumency to shield my brain and it ended up tampering with my ability to connect with my past."

"Yes." Hermione said, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"I do not wish to cause you discomfort, Hermione. I remember caring about you a great deal."

"You remember it?" Hermione asked, something occurring to her. "Do you not feel that way now?"

"I don't have a particular connection with anyone. I am aware that these connections used to exist but I no longer feel that same connection today."

"Oh." Hermione replied.

"Please understand something. To me, there is no difference. I can acknowledge what I have lost but there is no pain, no loss. Just acceptance."

In the end, that was the line that drove Hermione away. Hearing Harry, the most passionate person she knew, talk about feeling no pain or loss was something she couldn't imagine. While she knew that his past had caused him a great deal of pain over the years, the fact of that matter was that Harry Potter had been shaped by those memories, molded by those experiences.

Without those memories and the connection to them, Harry Potter was effectively dead, replaced by the shell of the man she had just walked out on.

As she reached the lobby, she marched straight past Ron who quickly sped to catch up.

"So how did it go?" Ron asked innocently.

"We need to see the Trelawneys." Hermione said seriously. "Now."


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione had expected a home like the Lovegoods, hidden from the world and unique in the most magicals of ways. She would have even expected a home like The Burrow, strangely cobbled together to fit those who lived inside.

The last thing she had expected was a brownstone in London. But that was where Minerva had directed the pair of them to go. Thankfully, Minerva had also had the presence of mind to let Trelawney know that the pair of them would be coming so that they wouldn't be unexpected. Hermione have imagined the look on Trelawney's favorite when one of her least favorite former students appeared at her front door.

Instead, when Sybill opened the door, there was warm and welcoming look from the old Divination professor.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, please come in."

The moment they entered the house, Hermione felt a profound sense of deja vu. As normal and sensible as the house had seemed from the outside, it was decorated in nearly the exact style that her former classroom had also been decorated. It gave a very strange sensation like you had just walked through a portal to a different dimension or something of the like.

Sybill led the pair of them to the front sitting room where they sat on the table across from her. She had not aged particularly well in the few years since they had last seen her. Despite the fact that she was only in her early forties, the stress of the last few years had apparently caught up with her. She looked thin and worn as if she had spent a lifetime running from something.

"My dears, the Headmistress sent me a letter this morning informing me of your arrival."

"You didn't see it coming?" Hermione snapped.

"Ms. Granger, despite all of my attempts, you seem to have learned almost nothing about the Sight. While I do admit to be a bit overzealous with my behavior previously, I do possess the Sight as you well know."

"You're referring to the prophecy you made about Harry." Ron asked.

"I am. It only is proof enough of my abilities. After my unceremonious exile from the castle, I have come to understand that I may have played my role a bit too strongly while at the school."

"You could say that again." Ron muttered.

Ignoring Ron, Trelawney continued. "However, my proclivity for posturing is not why you came here today."

"No, we came to speak to your father about Harry." Hermione confirmed.

"You may speak to him all you want, Ms. Granger. However, I am not certain how much you will be able to glean from him."

"Why not?"

"Because my father is nearly ninety years old and could conceivably pass away at any moment." Trelawney reasoned. "About once a day, he is lucid. For your sake, and the mind of Mr. Potter, I do hope it is now."

"You and me both."

That being said, Trelawney stood and made her way towards the stairs with Hermione and Ron following on her heels. After climbing three sets of stairs, the strange trio finally arrived at their destination, a single bedroom on the third floor that Sybill entered without knocking.

If Sybill Trelawney looked as if age had begun to hit her hard, she looked practically childlike compared to her father. Sitting mostly upright in the single bed in the room was the oldest man Hermione had ever seen. For a man of ninety, he looked to be nearly two hundred.

However, he was awake and smiled softly when the three of them came into the room. Sitting next to her father, Sybill whispered softly into his ear before leaning away and standing next to him. When Apollo finally spoke, it sounded as if it took all of his breath to utter a single world, leaving him sounding slow, despite the brilliant mind that was trapped inside a body that had long since betrayed it.

"My daughter tells me you have need of my services."

"We do." Hermione confirmed.

"And it involves the Potter boy?"

Despite the fact that Harry was an adult in every way, Hermione decided now was not the time to correct him.

"Yes."

"Why do you believe that I can help you?"

"Minerva McGonagall told us that you were the only person that had really looked into the magic of the mind. Harry has performed Occlumency to the point that he has lost himself behind the shields, aware of all of his memories but lacking any kind of personal connection to them."

"And how do you believe I can help?"

"I know about your device."

Suddenly, this man, who moments earlier had looked incapable of any movement at all, pushed himself completely upright and leaned towards Hermione, his fingers coming together just below his chin.

"How?"

"I'm the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. If I choose to run in the next election, I am widely considered to be the front runner. I am one-third of the Golden Trio and a heroine to most of the magical world. If there's information that I want, I can get it."

"Yes, but I was fairly certain that there were only two people that knew about this device."

"Hermione, what are the two of you talking about?" Ron asked with uncertainty.

"Back in the late 1970s, Apollo worked for the Department of Mysteries. There, he pioneered research into the possibilities of restoring memories to those who had lost them using magic. The research was first considered when Augustus Rookwood discovered something that he referred to as the Soul Cube. To this day, no one has quite figured out what it is but all study into the object showed that it had the potential for great power if someone could tap into its power."

"What does this have to do with memories?"

"I'm getting there." Hermione replied impatiently. "So, Rookwood had someone attempt to use the Cube. It failed miserably, leaving the woman without her memories. That woman was Evelyn Trelawney."

"My wife." Apollo agreed sadly. "She was never the same."

"But that didn't stop you from trying to bring her back."

"Her mind was too damaged but I always hoped."

"This happened in 1976. By the mid eighties, Apollo had worked with several other Unspeakables to create what can only be referred to as a giant Pensieve. The theory behind the device was that it operated on the same principal as a Pensieve, with a few notable exceptions. First, it was large enough for two people, which was essential for the other major component."

"What was that?" Ron asked.

"It was impossible to operate alone." Apollo interjected. "In order to make it possible for the device to handle the entirety of a person's memories, we had to co-opt some of the magic into another person. However, this made the device tricky to use. If the other person hadn't been present for enough of the other person's memories, then the device couldn't work properly."

For a moment, Ron simply stood in stunned silence as he finished listening to the pair of geniuses discuss this device. Eventually, something occurred to him.

"Hermione, your plan-you intend to go into this giant Pensieve with Harry?"

"I do." Hermione agreed without hesitation.

"Has the device ever worked?" Ron asked Apollo.

"Of course. However, we've only ever used it for the sharing of memories. It has never been used to restore memories from those that have lost them. In this situation, Ms. Granger would have to act as a guide for Harry, leading him through the memories that he lost, hoping that he would make the same person connection that he had previously felt."

"This is insane!" Ron replied, turning to Hermione. "Look, I know you love him. I love him, he's one of my brothers, but you cannot do this."

"This isn't just about me and Harry, Ronald." Hermione snapped. "Without Harry, we are dead in the water against Malfoy. No one knows the mind of the Death Eaters like Harry. Without him, we've lost our main strategist. Could we possibly win without him? Sure. But the only way that we can guarantee our success against Malfoy is with him."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"Do you really want to discuss this right now, Ron?" Hermione asked, avoiding the subject entirely.

"Well, it sounds like we're doing this anyway." Ron countered. "And it sounds like you have your mind made up about you doing it."

"You heard him." Hermione replied, pointing at Apollo. "The other person in the device has to have experienced enough of Harry's life."

"What makes you think that I haven't-"

The sudden realization of what she had said came over Ron in an instant. Hermione watched as the blunt nature of Hermione's comment washed over him. Almost an instant, he stopped and turned away, pacing back and forth, an obvious rage burning inside him.

"Come with me." Hermione said, grabbing Ron and taking him back down to the main floor. The moment they were there, Hermione had expected him to explode. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke rather calmly, albeit with a fairly obvious growl in his voice.

"You think I can't do it because I wasn't there."

"I need to be able to show him everything. That means in between the Goblet and the First Task. That means the time that you left."

"I came back!" Ron snapped.

"You did." Hermione said softly, stepping forward to take Ron's hands in hers. "Ron, when Harry forgave you for leaving, so did I. As upset as I was for you leaving me, that was nothing compared to how angry I was that you had left Harry. He was your best friend. But ultimately, he forgave you and so did I."

"But I wasn't there." Ron said softly.

"You're sorry for it and you wish you could take it back." Hermione whispered to him, placing a gentle hand under his chin so that she could look into his eyes. "But that doesn't change the past. For this to work, there are events that happened while you were gone that I need to show him. I need to show him Godric's Hallow. I need to show him the Forest of Dean. It's important."

For a moment, Ron simply nodded softly. Finally, he looked up at her of his own volition.

"What happened to the two of you in those woods?"

"A lot." Hermione admitted. "More than either of us would have admitted before."

"Before what?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I just know that something changed. Something is different. We've been trying to fight it but the closer Harry gets to being in a better place, the harder it's been for the two of us to fight it."

"Why would you fight it?"

"Because of you, because of the nature of how our relationship ended. Despite how much I care for you, Ron, it's not the same as my relationship with Harry."

"It never has been." Ron admitted softly. "You know that's why I was so jealous of Harry, right? It never really had that much to do with his fame, although that's what I blamed it on so that I didn't have to admit that I fancied you."

"Why?"

"Because he had you."

"Ron-" Hermione started.

"Don't say something you'll regret." Ron interjected. "You love him, Hermione. I've seen it for awhile. Harry told me that he loved you like a sister. He lied to himself just as much as he lied to me. Don't say that he didn't have you. The moment he saw you Petrified during second year, he was lost. Even then, the connection that the two of you had was different. It was special."

Hearing Ron talk about her relationship with Harry was among the strangest of things she had heard. However, the most jarring aspect of the whole thing was that Ron's awareness of the situation was far better than either hers or Harry's had been. For years, he had seen this and said nothing. Suddenly, the realization of just how consistently she had underestimated Ronald Weasley came into view.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because I was being selfish." Ron admitted. "I've loved you for quite awhile, Hermione. I don't remember exactly when it happened. Like I said, your relationship with Harry was why I was the most jealous of him. There was really only one thing in the world that I wanted and Harry had it."

"Did you ever stop to think that the one thing Harry wanted was parents that loved him and that you had that?" Hermione countered.

"Sure, I thought about it. But I always came back to the thought that he was Harry bleeding Potter and I was Ron Weasley."

"You know that he would have given anything to switch roles." Hermione replied gently. "He would have given every Knut to have your family."

"That's the thing, Hermione: he does have my family." Ron answered. "He may not be blood but he is family all the same. So are you if we're admitting other people into the Weasley clan."

"Do you have the authority to do that?" Hermione asked with a smirk.

"I'm one third of the bloody Golden Trio. I think I can get away with adding names to the family tree." Ron replied, feigning superiority before down at Hermione. "Be honest with me: is this about Death Eaters or is this about getting Harry back? Because the Junior Undersecretary can't go about unearthing hidden prototypes from the Department of Mysteries just to bring back a disgraced Auror, even if that Auror is Harry."

"This is about both, Ron. I would be lying if I said that it didn't have something to do with Harry. But you know that we need him."

"I do."

"So are you going to help me with this?"

Ron smiled. "I was always going to help. I was just making sure that you were doing it for the right reasons."

"Which was?"

"Bringing Harry back so that he can school Malfoy once and for all."

Two days later, Hermione returned to St. Mungo's after finishing up her preparations. Unfortunately, with the Healers there possessing no knowledge of how to help and believing that he wasn't a danger to anyone, they had released Harry back into the general public. For the rest of the day, Hermione searched high and low for Harry before choosing one final location, hoping that he had returned home after all.

When Hermione landed on the outskirts of Godric's Hallow, she raced through the town, sprinting to the site where Harry's parents had given their lives for him. Sure enough, standing in front of the signs which were complete with even more graffiti than their previous venture there, was Harry. He looked strange as he leaned over the gate, like he was an entirely different person.

Of course, Hermione had to remind herself that he was, in fact, an entirely different person. Finally, Harry saw Hermione standing next to him and gave her a coy smile.

"Hermione, it is good to see you again."

"Is it?"

"Of course. Seeing someone who I know cares about me brings me pleasure."

"Oh."

"Did you expect that I would be displeased by your presence?"

"I expected you to feel nothing." Hermione admitted.

"I feel all of the same feelings that you feel, Hermione." Harry replied honestly. "The shields that I have brought up in my mind do not prevent me from creating new memories, only from accurately accessing my previous ones."

Tears formed in Hermione's eyes as she was once again reminded how different he was now. He spoke clinically as if he were some embodiment of the English language and nothing more.

"This saddens you?" Harry asked.

"Of course it saddens me!" Hermione yelled, emotion bursting from somewhere deep within her. "The fact that you don't remember me in the same way that I do saddens me. It hurts me. Hell, it nearly destroys me!"

"Hermione, I do not remember you using such coarse language in the past."

Suddenly, Hermione stepped forward, getting to within inches of Harry's face.

"When you think about me, what do you remember?"

"I am not sure what you mean."

"What is the first thing that you think of when you think of my name?"

"Why, your name, of course." Harry replied with a small smile. "Hermione Jean Granger. It is quite a unique name."

"That's what you think of first?" Hermione snapped.

"Of course. Why would I lie to you?"

"Do you know what I think of when I think of you, Harry?" Hermione asked, pressing forward despite the overwhelming desire she felt to collapse into tears.

"How could I know?"

"I'm sure that if you still had access to your memories, you would know."

"I do have access. I remember everything."

Hermione turned from Harry, unable to look at him for the moment. This was so much to take in all at once. However, she had a mission that she needed to complete: for the country, for herself and most importantly, for Harry.

"You may remember but that's not the same." Hermione whispered, mostly to herself. "When I think of you, Harry, I think of Hagrid bringing your body out of the forest, I think of what I said to you when you left Ron and I to go sacrifice yourself."

"I'll go with you." Harry muttered.

"I think of your hair, jet black and never even close to in its place. I think of your scar, still visible though it fades every day. I think about the glasses that you could have replaced years ago. I think about your warmth and your passion and your love for everyone, whether they deserve it or not."

Finally, Hermione couldn't continue and the tears that she had long pressed back came flowing forward.

"I am sorry, Hermione. But this makes my decision easier."

"What decision?" Hermione asked between breaths.

"I am leaving."

If there had been anything that Hermione had been expecting, that certainly wasn't it. Finally turning back to him, Hermione saw the face of Harry Potter, uncharacteristically stoic as he stared at her.

"Excuse me?"

"I am leaving, both England and the magical world, behind."

"Why?"

"There is nothing for me here, Hermione. Even my presence harms you now. Despite the fact that have no real emotional connection with you, I know how I felt about you. Even through the shields, deep as they may be, the connection that I felt with you bleeds through."

"So why can't you feel that?"

"I cannot answer that, Hermione." Harry said earnestly. "I understand how I felt for you but I do not feel it myself. In addition to that, most of the memories that I have access to are empirically unpleasant. The burden that I face if I remain in this world vastly outweighs the connection I feel to the rest of the world. I intend to go to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow morning and have them remove my memories and implant new ones, giving me a new life as a muggle."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Of all the nightmare scenarios that she had considered, this one had never even crossed her mind. A world where Harry Potter lived and breathed and yet knew nothing of all of the lives that he saved and nothing of those that loved him.

"You can't." was all that she could utter.

"I can and I am, Hermione. You must understand. I don't want these memories, Hermione. I don't see these memories through any lens of love or hate, I only see them for what they are. They are a life of hardship and challenge. Harry has lost so much in the short amount of time that he has been alive. Without that connection, all I can do is rationalize what I see. The rational answer is that the world will still expect me to be a hero, to fight for them."

"That's not true. It could be explained."

"Everything in my memories says otherwise and you know that I am correct, Hermione." Harry said coldly. "This is the easiest way for everyone. I am no longer burdened by the weight of these memories and those that Harry loved are no longer pained by the sight of his body every day, knowing that almost nothing remains of what he once was."

For a brief moment, Harry simply looked at her. Then, he leaned forward and gave her a small peck on the cheek.

"For what it is worth, Hermione Jean Granger, he did love you." Harry replied, the smallest hint of the old Harry bleeding through.

It was all she needed. As Harry turned to leave, Hermione caught his hand. Turning back towards her, Harry looked at her in confusion.

"Give me a chance."

"To do what?"

"I can show you what you're missing." Hermione whispered. "There is a way for me to give you that connection back."

"How?"

"How isn't important right now, Harry." Hermione said firmly. "What is important is that there is a chance. It isn't certain by any stretch of the imagination but I believe it will work. Does that mean anything to you?"

"It does." Harry whispered. "You are often correct."

"Then let me try." Hermione pleaded. The look on Harry's face was one of confusion as Hermione pressed forward, begging for his own life. "All you see right now is the bad. I know that there is a lot of it. Your life has been anything but easy, I know that. But right now, you lack the proper context for your memories."

"Why would the context matter, Hermione?"

"Because it's not the what of these memories that matters, it is the why. You almost always chose to do what you did, even if it was hard. There were so many times that you could have walked away. You could have let it simply be someone else's problem two dozen times. Instead, you stepped up and you did the impossible, despite the odds."

"Why? Why would I do that? What possible reason could there have been for that?" Harry asked. "My memories don't appear to connect like that at all."

Leaning forward, Hermione pecked Harry on the cheek. Instantly, she noticed a red hue appear on the corners of his face, along with a smile that was the thing that had reminded her most of Harry.

"Because of your love for people, that's why. It's why you didn't leave Ginny to die in the Chamber of Secrets. It's why you saved Sirius from the Dementors and it's why you mourned with Dumbledore sacrificed himself for you."

"But love caused me pain." Harry pleaded softly.

"Yes, it did." Hermione replied. "And it's going to cause you pain again. But the Harry I know would say that all of that pain was worth it in the end. Because without that pain, none of his friends or family would live in world that's free from Lord Voldemort."

"I have no family."

"That's what you may feel now." Hermione countered. "But the number of people that love you and count you as one of their own is startling. Do you trust me, Harry?"

For a beat, Harry seemed frozen, simply staring ahead as he tried to process the question that Hermione had asked him. His head dropped to the floor and his eyes closed as he tried to block out every other sensation but the words that now bounced around the inside of his brain. After nearly a full minute, Harry looked up at Hermione, the most fearful look she had ever seen on his face.

"I do." he said shortly.

"Then there are some people that we need to speak to."

"OK."

Taking Harry's hand, she looked at him for a moment. It seemed that despite the confusion that was apparent in his face, he had resigned himself to trust her that she could connect him to his past in a way that no one else could.

Unlike everyone else, who would have required information beyond that which she could have even given, Harry had trusted her simply on her word.

It was something that one little thing, the ability to trust her when no one should have, that was the most Harry-like thing he could have possibly done.

And it gave her the hope that instead of Harry, it would be her doing the impossible this time.

A few hours later, Harry and Hermione were seated in Apollo's room, preparing themselves for what was to come. It hadn't taken much urging on Hermione's part to get Kingsley to gain possession of Apollo's prototype. Once they had taken possession of the device, they had quickly had it delivered to the Trelawney's home, setting it up in the thankfully large attic room that Apollo considered his home.

Now, the pair of them sat in two chairs next to the giant Penseive, awaiting their instructions. For his part, Apollo seemed to be enjoying the nerves of the pair in front of him, chuckling at the obvious discomfort of the two.

"The first thing that both of you must understand is that this has never been attempted before. There is only good result possible: Harry regaining connection his memory. In counter, I have calculated approximately thirty scenarios where this could end rather terribly for one or both of you. There are even scenarios where the presence of Sybill and myself could cause problems."

"Will you remain in the room?"

"We will wait just outside once I have activated the device." Sybill replied. "I will levitate my father's bed out of the room." she added, answering their unvoiced question. "Once the device is activated, it will take control of the process."

"Excuse me?"

"The device seems to possess some sort of instinct. You will be able to direct it, Ms. Granger, but complete control is entirely out of the question."

"That's reassuring." Harry muttered to himself.

"We'll be fine." Hermione assured him.

"I wouldn't be so certain, Ms. Granger." Apollo interjected. "As I said, there is a high probability of failure. In fact, the only reason why I agreed to do this in the first place is because of your professed faith in Harry and his ability to defeat the threat that faces us all. If not for that, I would have denied this as foolish, too risky for the both of you."

"How is it risky for myself?"

"The most important aspect of this device is that it allows for an almost complete merge of the two minds that enter."

"Merge?" Harry asked cautiously.

"If everything works properly, you both shall remain in control of your own minds but with the ability to peer into the other's willingly. You will share memories, knowledge, secrets. This requires complete trust of the other in order to even establish the most basic of connections."

Hearing this concerned Hermione slightly. Would Harry trust her to enter every aspect of his mind or would the shields that he had established bar her from entry?

"What happens if that connection doesn't get established?"

"It's hard to say, really. You might connect but end up unable to access each other's minds, leaving you in a strange limbo. You may toss all of your thoughts into the device, leaving you both as blanks with no memories to speak of."

"We could both lose our memories?" Harry asked in concern.

"It is possible." Apollo confirmed.

"Hermione," Harry said in a panic, turning to her. "You can't do this. What happens if they lose both of us? You think it's bad enough that they've lost me, we can't do this if it means losing both of us."

"Harry, do you trust me?" she asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his.

"Yes, I wouldn't be here if I didn't." Harry admitted.

"Then just continue to trust me and everything will be fine." Hermione replied before turning back to Apollo. "Is there anything else we need to know?"

"You must take off your stockings and shoes."

"Pardon me?" Harry asked.

"The device requires a physical connection to the mind. This requires you to enter the device barefoot. Once inside, you will grasp hands and stand in the center of the device."

"Fine." Harry replied softly as he started to remove his shoes. Hermione did the same and moments later, the pair was standing in the middle of the device, shoeless. It was a remarkably strange sensation. Despite the fact that they were clearly almost knee-deep in liquid, Hermione couldn't sense any sort of moisture whatsoever. Taking Harry's hands in hers, she looked to Apollo, who in turned nodded to Sybill. With a quick flip of her wand, the bed lifted off the ground and floated out of the room.

Finally, Sybill turned back to the pair of them.

"For the sake of the both of you and the rest of us, I pray that this works."

Leaning down, Sybill touched her wand to the rim of the device before walking quickly out of the room. For a moment, Hermione had thought that something had failed.

Then, the liquid in the bowl around them started to move. Faster and faster, the mysterious substance they were standing in swirled around them, creating a whirlpool of sorts where they stood. However, none of this seemed to affect the pair of them as they stood in the center. Around the outside of the bowl, a series of runes that Hermione didn't understand started to glow, causing the substance to start floating around them, creating an orb around them.

Then, all at once, the runes went dark and the orb crashed into them, plunging Harry and Hermione into darkness.

When Hermione came to, the world around her had changed entirely. Now, instead of the room they had been in before, she and Harry stood alone in a void entirely devoid of everything else, save for the color white.

"I remember something similar to this…." Harry muttered softly.

"What? When?" Hermione asked.

"When Voldemort killed me in the Forest the first time." Harry replied.

Just as he spoke, the world around them suddenly shifted. Around them was suddenly a blurry version of the Forbidden Forest around them. Standing across from Harry was a out of focus Lord Voldemort, wand in hand and muttering something that Harry couldn't hear.

"Why is it so foggy?" Hermione asked.

"It looks fine to me." Harry replied, suddenly looking afraid. "It's just as I remember it."

"You remember it?"

Harry nodded. "Just this moment. I don't really remember how I got here or what happened afterward but I can feel everything about this particular moment flooding into my mind."

"Can you show it to me?"

"How?"

"Let me in." Hermione answered.

"What does that even mean?"

"I'm not exactly sure. But when you mentioned this memory, this was the one to appear. I think it seems to work on our intention. Whatever we intend to see is what appears."

"So if I intend to let you see this, you should?"

"It would clear it up for me, I think."

"Okay. Let me try."

Instantly, the frozen blur around her started to move, clearing up so that she could hear and see everything.

"The Boy Who Lived…...come to die."

"Oh god."

This was the last thing Hermione wanted to see. Even if she knew that she was going to see some terrible things again, this was the one thing in the world that Hermione didn't want to see.

And then, the entire vision was gone, leaving the pair of them back in the white void.

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"I could see your face." Harry replied sadly. "I didn't want you to see that."

"But you might have to."

"I remember all of it, Hermione." Harry assured her. "Let's keep moving."

"Fine." Hermione replied softly. "Let's start at the beginning."

The next moment, the image of Harry's home in Godric's Hollow appeared, complete and adorned in Halloween decorations. It was the Halloween of his parents' murder. Despite the fear building up inside her at the thought of watching the death of Harry's parents, she pressed on, showing Harry the sacrifice that his parents made in order to ensure that he lived.

For what seemed like hours, the pair of them wandered through Harry's memories. Most of them Hermione had been a part of and required no assistance from Harry to see. For those that she hadn't been present for, a simple thought from Harry cleared up the entire image.

Through the years they progressed watching image after image.

The meeting with Hagrid.

His Sorting.

The Troll.

Quidditch.

The entirety of their quest for the Sorcerer's Stone.

Second Year included Ginny, a number of random events and the events regarding the Chamber of Secrets. Harry seemed to pause for a rather lengthy period of time when he saw Hermione's Petrified figure.

Third Year was Harry's introduction to Hogsmeade, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and his first experience with Prophecy.

Fourth Year allowed them to revisit the Goblet of Fire, The Quidditch World Cup, All Three Tasks and the Graveyard where Lord Voldemort returned to physical form.

Fifth Year, they discovered Dumbledore's Army, Cho Chang and Dolores Umbridge. It was the last image from his fifth year when Harry protested for the first time.

"Hermione, I don't want to see this." he said as they landed in the Veil room.

"You need to." Hermione replied sadly.

"It doesn't matter, Hermione. I remember what it was like. Even if I didn't experience it, I know it was torture for me."

"It's a part of who you are, Harry." Hermione said as the action around them started. Watching as Harry and Sirius fought side-by-side, she marveled at just how talented Harry was for his age. The joy on Harry's face as he fought with Sirius disappeared as Bellatrix's curse struck Sirius in the chest, throwing him into the veil.

The moment Sirius hit the veil, both the present and past Harrys had the same reaction: a bloodcurdling cry that nearly killed Hermione to hear. She knew it would be hard for Harry to experience this again but she had no idea just how much it would hurt her to watch, knowing that she was putting Harry through this.

Giving Harry time to collect himself, she eventually came over to him, helping him off the floor before imagining the next memory: the recruitment of Horace Slughorn.

She showed him his romance with Ginny, his time as Quidditch team captain. She showed him the memories of working with Dumbledore in his office, the time with Penseive. Finally, the night with Dumbledore came up and again, Harry began to protest.

"I don't need to see this." he whispered softly.

"It's okay to be afraid, Harry."

"I'm not afraid, Hermione." he snapped. "I'm in pain. I'm reliving every terrible thing that's ever happened to me."

"You're also reliving the good things."

"Then why is it that only the bad things seem to stick out?"

Finally, the image of Harry and Dumbledore going to the cave played out in front of them. She watched in horror as Dumbledore downed that vile potion, forcing him to relive all of his worst memories. However, the power that Dumbledore showed moments later, setting fire to the entire cave with a single spell, impressed Hermione more than the previous image had scared her.

Sadly, she watched as Dumbledore expressed faith in Harry as he Apparated the pair of them back to school. Eventually, Severus Snape appeared and this time, the image froze as Harry actively prevented them from viewing it.

"You need to see this, Harry. You need to feel it."

"I don't." Harry growled. "I hate you for this, Hermione. How could you possibly think that this was a good idea?"

"Do you trust me, Harry?" was her only reply.

For a few seconds, Hermione thought that Harry was going to snap back at her. Instead, he nodded softly as the image continued. When the green curse hit Dumbledore square in his chest, throwing him off the balcony, the mirrored nature of both Harrys was again startling.

This time, they both stood in stunned silence as the great wizard disappeared over the embankment.

"Hermione." he pleaded softly.

Hermione turned to Harry, taking his face in her hands.

"We are almost done, Harry. If I didn't think this was important, I would never do this to you."

"Fine."

The scene in front of them shifted to the happiness of Bill and Fleur's wedding. Then, it was onto the chase in London.

She showed him their time hiding away in Grimmauld Place.

She showed them their infiltration of the Ministry and their escape to the woods.

Against every wish in her body, she showed him Ron, screaming and fighting with Harry before disappearing into the woods.

"How could he do that?" Harry growled, nearly chasing off after Ron himself.

"Give it time, Harry."

She showed Harry some of their time together in the woods before showing him their first visit to Godric's Hollow.

Next came Harry's venture into the woods after Snape's Patronus where Ron returned to save him. Then, Ron destroyed the Horcrux and Harry told Ron that he loved Hermione like a sister.

Even as Hermione watched the image in front of her, she could tell that he was lying, something that Harry was terrible at.

"Hermione, I don't want to see this either."

"We need to." Hermione replied as she internally thought the same thing. Eventually, Malfoy Manor came into view. For the next several minutes, Hermione watched Harry as he ended up in the cell in the bowels of Malfoy Manor.

However, when she started hearing her own voice, she looked away, not wanting to see how Harry reacted. But instead of watching his reaction, the image suddenly shifted from the basement to the main dining room where Hermione suddenly saw the image of her body pressed against the wall by the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure." Hermione admitted as she saw the first lines start to appear on her arm. If they stayed long enough, they would eventually form the word, "Mudblood."

"This is your memory." Harry whispered.

"I didn't ask for my memory."

"I did."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Because I need to see what she did." Harry growled. "I already remember this."

"How? I hadn't shown it to you."

"The moment we entered the house, I remembered all of it."

"I don't want to relive this, Harry." Hermione pleaded.

"But I need to."

For several minutes, Harry watched Bellatrix torture Hermione as Hermione buried her face in his chest. Hearing the sound of her own cries was bad enough but listening to Harry's teeth grind as he watched the scene in front of him was almost worse.

"Let's go."

A blur of Gringotts, Shell Cottage and Hogsmeade flashed before her eyes before she realized that she was no longer in control of what was happening. Harry was filtering through his own memories at superspeed, experiencing the entirety of the several days before the Battle in mere seconds.

Hermione watched the beginning of the Battle play in just a few moments before the scene stopped, pausing in its entirety during the break in the Battle. Standing over the crowd gathered, Harry stood apart from Hermione as he looked over the bodies of Fred Weasley and Remus and Nymphadora Lupin.

"They died for me."

"They died because they loved you."

"Because they believed in me."

"They did."

"I didn't deserve it."

"Yes, you did." Hermione replied, recognizing this version of Harry as the one who had existed just prior to the Battle of Hogwarts. "You've always deserved it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Keep going."

"What do you mean?"

"You're in control now, Harry. Keep going."

Again, time sped forward as the events of the Battle flashed before their eyes. Time stopped for a moment, just long enough to hear Hermione say:

"We'll go with you."

The second she said it, time was moving again. The rest of the Battle and the events of the last year sped forward in seconds, ending with their capture at the hands of Draco Malfoy and Harry's last memories before the shields went up.

"I've seen it all, Hermione." Harry growled as they returned to the void. "I still don't see what I did to deserve this."

Having seen the entirety of his life, Harry still felt that he didn't deserve the love that he garnered from those around him. Having seen it all, he still didn't feel like himself again.

Then, an idea came to her mind.

"Go through my memories." Hermione whispered.

"Excuse me?"

In an instant, Hermione eliminated the space in between them, getting to within just a few inches of his face.

"You trusted me with the darkest corners of your mind, Harry. You've trusted me with everything. Now, it's my turn to trust you."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take control." Hermione replied softly. "I want you to revisit every memory that we just went through and I want you to watch it from my perspective."

"Why?"

"Because I think I've figured out why you still don't get it."

"Why don't I get it, Hermione?" Harry asked with the smallest of edge in his voice.

"Because you can't see what we see."

Harry hesitated for a moment. Rather than wait for him, Hermione ceremonially placed his hands on her head.

"Do it, Harry."

Again, he waited a second but this time, that was all the time he took. Something about Harry's personality gave him an innate understanding of how this device worked and it allowed him to plunge through the bowels of Hermione's memory bank, watching every single memory between the two of them.

Most of them were innocent enough but as time went on, their interactions became more important, more personal. The first one that Harry watched in real time was their conversation after Hermione witnessed Ron kissing Lavender.

It was heartbreaking to experience just what Hermione was feeling. But then, Harry remembered just what he had been feeling, a similar empty feeling, one he thought would have been filled by Ginny.

Then, there was the wedding when he danced with Hermione for the first time. It was a rather simple affair as they talked about Ginny and Ron. But whereas Harry had originally felt confident in his love for Ginny, this time he felt conflict and realized that it had belonged to both of them as they fought to remain attached to the person they felt they should have ended up with.

After that, Harry returned them to the woods and replayed Ron's outburst from Hermione's perspective. That conflict that Hermione had felt at the wedding was now multiplied exponentially as her love for both of the men in front of her placed her directly in between them.

But all of these paled in comparison to the last two. The first was that single night in the woods after Ron had left. Hermione had been wearing the Horcrux when suddenly, Harry approached her, taking the Horcrux off of her neck and taking her to the center of the room where he began to dance terribly. It was a simple thing but it may have been the moment that broke the dam. As Harry watched this moment through the lens of Hermione's emotions, he suddenly realized just what Hermione had meant to him all through these years.

The dance itself had been simple enough but that one dance was all it took to push things in the direction they had been going for years, ever since Harry had stuck his wand up that troll's nose.

Then, time skipped ahead again, this time landing the wreckage of Hogwarts Castle. Harry found Hermione and Ron sitting on the stairs alone.

Harry knew exactly what this was from the moment he saw it but watching himself come down the stairs was still a strange experience. Feeling Hermione's pain as she realized what Harry intended to do nearly broke him but it was that strangled tone in her voice when she said it that finally caused the tears to flow.

"I'll go with you!"

The scene in front of him collapsed as he noticed that Hermione had taken over once more to show him one more thing. Back in front of the castle, Hermione stood on the steps looking out over grounds as a black mass walked towards her, a half-giant in the lead with a body draped across his arms.

If Harry thought he had felt anguish before, it had been nothing compared to the feeling that he felt when Hermione realized that the body was his. In fact, the feeling was so intense that Harry was forced down onto one knee.

Never before had he felt something as personal and acute as the pain that Hermione felt as she cried in horror upon witnessing the body of Harry Potter being carried by Hagrid.

In that moment, as he watched both versions of Hermione exhibit that same pain, all of the shields that Harry had placed finally broke away, allowing Harry full access to his memories.

And in that same moment, he realized something that he had never fully vocalized.

He loved Hermione with every fiber of his being. Just as Harry realized that, the memories of both of them flashed before their eyes at such a speed that caused both of them to collapse back into reality and falling unconscious inside the prototype Pensieve.

Thankfully, the noise got the attention of the Trelawneys waiting outside and Sybill burst into the room, dragging the two of them out of the basin.

As Hermione came to, she saw that she was in the same room that she had last been in, albeit in another bed that had been magically conjured. The moment she awoke, Sybill entered the room with a tray of tea.

"To answer your question, dear, Mr. Potter has been awake for a few hours now. He left with instructions to inform you that if you woke before he returned that we were to inform you that he will return before nightfall."

"How did you know that I would ask that?" Hermione asked.

"I am a Seer." Sybill replied dryly before smirking slightly. "It is obvious to anyone that you care about him, Ms. Granger, even to those without the Sight."

"Oh."

Then, as if he had been Summoned, Hermione saw Harry standing in the doorway behind Sybill, a very strange smile on his face. Turning, Sybill saw Harry and immediately exited the room.

As Sybill walked past him, a thousand thoughts went through Harry's mind as he looked at Hermione with new eyes. For a few seconds, he simply stood there, looking at her. Finally, Hermione spoke up.

"I'm not contagious, am I?" she asked with a rare display of snark.

"I don't think so." Harry said quietly as he came in and took a seat next to her bed. Again, the silence between the two of them was startling. For years, they had been able to talk about everything.

Now? Neither of them knew what to say. Eventually, it was Harry that bit the bullet, so to speak.

"How could I not see it, Hermione?" he asked softly, taking her hand in his.

"See what?"

"You."

"You've seen me, Harry." Hermione whispered.

"Not like this." Harry admitted before standing to pace the room. As he stood, Hermione sat upright in her seat, watching Harry with new eyes as well. "How could I not see it? Since we were eleven, your entire world has revolved around what mess I've been involved in. You've given up everything. You could have done anything, been anyone. But instead you've spent your entire life making sure that I was going to survive."

"You were my best friend, Harry. You couldn't have done what you did by yourself, no matter how hard you tried." Hermione smirked.

"Still, I can't tell you how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you. You've been there for me even when I didn't deserve it, especially when I didn't deserve it."

"Like when?"

"Third Year. The Firebolt." Harry admitted sheepishly. "I valued a broom over my friendship with you."

"OK. Yes, you were being an ass about that." Hermione chuckled.

Harry had to laugh before quickly sitting next to Hermione again. "Without you, I don't know where I'd be." Harry thought about that possibility for just the briefest of moments. "Actually, I know exactly where I would be. I would be dead a thousand times over. Without you, Tom Riddle would sit as Minister of the world, destroying all Muggles, Muggleborns and Half-Bloods."

"Harry, I am exactly where I want to be and you forget, without you, the same scenario takes place. As smart and witty as I may be, I'm no soldier. I couldn't have stood before Voldemort like you did. I couldn't have fought him and I can't fight Malfoy and Dolohov now."

"You risked everything for me."

"You've done it for me. Knowing us, I doubt it will be the last time this happens so I'd rather not keep some kind of ledger."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at Hermione's comment. The fact that how they felt about each other was now out in the open was about as relieving as anything Harry could have imagined.

"I love you, Hermione." Harry said softly.

"I've always loved you, Harry." Hermione answered. "However, there is one thing we need to take care of before we can discuss anything further."

"What's that?" Harry asked, suddenly worried.

"Draco Malfoy." Hermione growled.

"I suppose we should deal with that, shouldn't we?" Harry replied. "No time like the present, I suppose."

"Well, let me get out of this bed and we can get back to action."

"While you're at it, let's call in some reinforcements." Harry smiled.

"Reinforcements? Like who?"

Again, Harry's smile told most of the story.

"Do you still have your trick Galleon?"


	26. Chapter 26

Before Harry met with whatever part of Dumbledore's Army showed up, Harry needed to update Kingsley. So, after ensuring that Hermione was alright, he quickly Apparated to the Ministry. Marching through the Atrium, Harry didn't have to ignore the eyes that focused on him as he made his way through the crowd.

In fact, for the first time in his life, he simply didn't even notice them. After the experience that he had just had for the past two days, the eyes of the random pedestrian didn't seem to bother him. As Harry approached the Minister's office, Harry noticed something fairly peculiar.

There was no one stopping him. Even if he was Harry Potter, even he didn't get to just march straight into the office of the Minister of Magic without permission. So, as he made his way through the various checkpoints without resistance, Harry's mind started racing with concern.

Thankfully, just as he entered the office, Percy Weasley finally stopped him, stepping out of his own adjacent office to prevent Harry from entering.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Percy said firmly as he extended his hand to shake Harry's. When Harry took his hand, he immediately felt the slip of paper in Percy's hand and took it. "The Minister is busy and isn't seeing anyone right now."

"Understood." Harry said, playing along with Percy's act. Looking down, Harry read the note in his hands.

Malfoy entered the Ministry last night. Dolohov murdered Robards and they took Kingsley hostage. Malfoy is in the Minister's office with Kingsley right now. You are going to need reinforcements.

Looking up at Percy, Harry saw him nod curtly at him.

"Is there anything else I can help with while I'm here?" Harry asked subtly.

"I don't believe so." Percy asked. "How goes the hunt for Dolohov?"

"I think we're getting close." Harry replied, placing a reassuring arm on Percy's shoulder. "Just give me some time and we should all be out of this mess."

"I look forward to that. Please tell my family I said hi. I'm sure you'll see them before I do."

"Of course." Harry said before turning and marching out of the Ministry and Apparating back to Grimmauld Place. Even before Malfoy's incursion into the Ministry, Harry didn't trust that Hermione's apartment was a secure location.

So, he instead gave his home address to the entirety of Dumbledore's Army, a move so trusting of others that Harry knew he wouldn't have done just a few months ago. As he landed on the doorstep, Harry entered the house, hearing the sound of many voices, including some that he hadn't heard in some time.

As Harry entered the dining room, he scanned the room and noted quite a few surprise appearances. All the members of the task force were obviously there as was Ron. But if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure how many would answer his call. He had not been a good friend to most of these people for the last eighteen months.

Still, his faith in them had been rewarded. In the far corner of the room, speaking with Neville Longbottom, was Luna Lovegood, her eyes peeking over to where Harry stood. Closer to Harry, at the end of the table, sat Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, speaking in hushed tones. Ron stood in the corner closest to Harry, joking with Dean Thomas and Ernie MacMillan. Finally, seated at the table was Seamus Finnigan and Cho Chang, two of the people that Harry was almost certain wouldn't show up.

Even with the situation they faced, Harry had to smile. This kind of support spoke volumes about what they thought of him, despite his behavior over the last year.

Of course, the involvement of one Hermione Granger probably helped with that.

"Harry is here." Hermione muttered to George in the corner before walking over to him. "Did you speak to Kingsley?"

"Things are worse than we thought." Harry replied as he noticed Hermione place a small kiss on his cheek. "Guys, take a seat. We need to talk."

Instantly, the room mobilized with almost the entirety of the group able to sit at the large table in front of him. Only Hermione and George remained standing, with each of them flanking Harry against the wall behind him.

However, just as Harry took his breath to begin speaking, the front door crashed open again. Turning around, Harry saw a flash of red as Ginny Weasley entered the room.

"Sorry, I'm late." she said simply.

"You're here?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Of course I'm here." Ginny replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Ginny, you haven't been happy with me recently and that's putting it mildly."

"Maybe. But I am a member of Dumbledore's Army. Always was, always will be. So, when the call was put out there, I answered."

Looking around the room, it seemed to be the prevailing sentiment in the room. Smirking slightly, he smiled as Ginny moved around the table and took a spot standing just behind Luna. For a moment, Harry remained frozen, thinking of all the plethora of things that were floating through his head.

Finally, Harry turned and squared up on the table, his hands on the table, allowing him to lean forward.

"This was the final headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix before their disillusion at the end of the war." Harry started softly. "I never liked the idea of the Order shutting down permanently. It's why I told you all to keep your coins. Sometimes, things happen and we're going to need a team from outside the Ministry to respond. A group that has been trained and a group that knows how to work together. That will always be Dumbledore's Army and for as long as you have possession of your coin, then this location will always be accessible to you as a safe place."

"How is that possible?" Ginny asked from the other end of the table.

"I spent the morning reworking the wards. In combination with the Fidelius Charm that keeps this house hidden, it is now looking for your fake Galleon. If you are both on the list of those who know the Secret and possess a Galleon, the house will open up to you. No one other than myself will know that you have entered and no one that does not know the Secret will be able to get to you."

"Well, that's nifty." George replied with a smirk before getting more serious. "So what did the Minister say?"

"That's the problem." Harry said, standing upright. "I couldn't see the Minister."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Because Malfoy has effectively abducted the Minister." Harry said as the room instantly burst into a cacophony of whispers. "Sometime within the last day, Malfoy and Dolohov infiltrated the building, killing Robards and taking Kingsley prisoner within his own office. I don't know what Malfoy's plan is and that only makes him more terrifying. I would not put it past him to simply place the Imperius Curse on Kingsley and have Kingsley operate as his own personal Minister-slave. Once he removes this group, then there's no one who will notice much of a difference anyway, no one that could stop him anyway."

Harry let that sink into the room around him for a minute. Finally, Angelina was the one who asked the question on everyone's mind.

"So what's the plan?"

"The plan is relatively simple." Harry said and with a wave of his wand, a diagram of the Ministry appear floating in the center of the room. "I will split this group into two teams, one led by myself and one led by Ron."

"Me?" Ron asked in surprise. "Why not Hermione?"

"Because as Junior Undersecretary, Hermione has access to executive offices without needing permission. I intend to use that to surprise Malfoy."

"Whatever you say, mate." Ron replied with a thumbs up.

"Great." Harry smirked before turning back to the floating model. "Ron, your team will consist of Luna, Hannah, Ernie, Katie, Seamus and Neville. Your job will be to hold the Atrium. Once both teams enter the Ministry, I will double up the anti-Apparition wards. This means that the only way out of the building will be through your team."

"So we're the last line of defense." Neville said with a nod.

"Exactly. Anything that comes your way, you hold and you do everything you can to keep a single Death Eater from moving past you."

"Understood." Ron nodded solemnly. Harry noticed that a similar seemed to be on everyone's face. The realization of what they were about to do was finally setting. Obviously, no one expects to participate in an incursion into their own seat of government.

"My team will be Cho, George, Wood, Daphne, Dean, Angelina, Hermione and Ginny. Our goal is simple. We move to the executive offices, we storm the Minister's Office and we take Malfoy….alive."

As expected, that didn't particularly sit well with some members of the crowd gathered in front of him. However, Harry wasn't going to leave that hang without explaining himself. If he was going to lead this group, he had already decided he wasn't going to be Dumbledore. Secrets had made people mistrustful and Harry wouldn't start his time leading this group once more without clueing the group into everything.

"I know that this bothers some of you." Harry added. "However, there are two reasons for this. First, I still believe that we need to show that we are better than the Death Eaters. We don't get to take the moral high ground if we're just wandering through the Ministry, murdering everyone. Now, I understand that there are situations where the choice is either you or them. In those situations, do what you can but your ultimate goal is to come out alive."

"You're giving us the authority to kill?" Ginny asked.

"I am." Hermione replied from the end of the table. "Within what power I can, I am deputizing this team for today's mission only. This means that you will be protected from prosecution if you kill while on duty."

"Within reason." Harry added. "And I want to make this very clear, killing is your last choice. Because as much as Hermione can try and legitimize us, we are not legitimate under any circumstances. This is a body operating outside of the law to take back the Ministry. Do I believe that we need to do that? Absolutely. But I also understand that there will be people who are wary of our decision to do so. We can help negate some of that feeling if we don't go in with the goal of beheading everything that raises a wand to us."

"What about-" Seamus started before Harry cut him off.

"If I wasn't clear enough the first time, I will say this: If killing is anywhere higher than last on your list of options, there is the door." Harry replied, pointing towards the hallway. "On almost every other thing, this is a democracy. This is not one of those particular items. If you're here for revenge or payback or whatever you want to call it, thanks but no thanks."

Harry's words hung in the air as the room went silent. Thankfully, no one moved as Harry looked each and every person in the room in the eyes, ensuring that they were being as truthful as they could be.

"Good." Harry replied. "We have about two hours before the Ministry closes. We need to figure this out before then."

"Why the rush?"

"As far as we know, Malfoy is still in the building. However, he has to know that I was there and was turned away by Percy. That means that this evening is his best time to get out. We have to beat him there." Hermione replied, stepping up next to Harry. "We either go now or we run the risk of being too late and Malfoy will slip through our grasp again."

"Which we cannot allow. So, we have ninety minutes. Let's go over this plan front and back."

Just over two hours later, each of the two teams stood in the middle of the dining room, ready to Apparate.

"We hit the Atrium first. What happens next?" Harry asked.

Ron answered instantly.

"My team spreads to the corners of the room and secures any and all entryways. Using the procedure that Hermione taught us, we shut down the Floo and reinforce the Anti-Apparition wards."

"How long will you have?"

"Expected response time is somewhere under two minutes and we cannot anticipate what kind of force Malfoy will send our way once he realizes that he's boxed himself in." Ernie replied.

"And what happens if either the Floo or the wards fail?" Harry asked.

"We retreat." Luna grumbled. "Although, I personally think a patented Potter suicide mission would work nicely there."

"Luna…."

"Just a thought." Luna smirked.

"If we fail today, we need to be able to regroup and attack again within twenty-four hours." Hermione explained so that Harry didn't start yelling. "If you're all dead, we can't do that."

"Exactly."

"Fine." Luna replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Looking around, Harry saw that everyone seemed to be ready to go with wand in hand. Turning to Ron, he gave him a brief nod.

"You ready, Weasley?" Harry smirked.

"Are you, Potter?" Ron countered.

"Would you two ever grow up?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"No." Ron replied as Harry said, "Not likely."

"That's what I thought." Hermione said with a smile.

Eventually, Harry grabbed each Hermione and Ron by the shoulder, pulling them into a crushing hug. For others, words may have been exchanged. But for someone who had been through what the three of them had been through together, no words were necessary. As they broke apart, Harry looked at Ron.

"Let's take him down."

With a vicious snap, Harry turned in place and moments later, he landed with the rest of his team in the center of the Atrium. Almost instantly, members of Ron's team started moving towards the edge of the room. As they started moving, so did Harry sprinting in the direction of the executive offices and Draco Malfoy.

Blowing through the security gate, Harry and his team was greeted by a small group of Death Eaters, clad in their typical regalia. Thankfully, Harry's team was full some of the best duelists in the country and they were easily able to blow through that squad with very little resistance.

Again, just as they reached the hallway to the executive offices, a group of six masked Death Eaters crossed their path. This time, Harry didn't even bother allowing his team to help. A single Exploding Curse to the floor in front of them threw debris that caused a massive amount of physical damage. Stepping over the groaning figures below him, Harry and the rest of his team pushed forward until they were standing just outside the Minister's office.

This time, no one stepped forward to stop Harry. Thinking this suspicious, Harry turned to the rest of his team.

"I'm going to go in alone." Harry whispered. "Give me five minutes. If I don't come out by then, burst through the door and take him down."

"Why you?" Daphne asked.

"Because Malfoy will be expecting me. I'm hoping that we can surprise him with the rest of you."

"Just go." Hermione growled, pushing Harry towards the door. Nodding firmly, Harry turned and wrenched the door open. For a moment, Harry thought the room was empty. Then, the door snapped closed behind him and Harry knew he had been wrong.

Finally, the same coarse voice that had taunted him in Glasgow rumbled through the room as the Minister's chair turned to reveal Antonin Dolohov, smiling in the chair.

"You are so easy, Potter."

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked.

"I have to hand it to Draco. I was suspicious when I found out that our inside source and leader was Malfoy's brat. But he's changed. He's gotten smarter, savvier and the boy knows you inside and out."

"He would like to think that."

"You know, I thought like you until just now." Dolohov admitted as he stood, wand in hand. "But he predicted everything about your actions today."

"What do you mean?"

"He ordered the blood traitor to pass you that note." Dolohov growled, a demented glee in his eyes. "He said that within the day, you would be back with that ragtag group of yours. He figured that you were likely to split up with half the team ensuring that we couldn't leave and the other half, led by you, coming here to save the Minister."

Harry had to admit: that had been his plan to the letter. In fact, it made him wonder if he had another mole working for Malfoy. Dolohov seemed to anticipate this as well.

"Don't worry, Potter, your team is clean. Malfoy was even happier that he managed to predict your movements without even having someone to feed him information."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he was here with the Minister ten minutes ago." Dolohov taunted lowly. "Then, he took the Minister down to the courtrooms and set the trap for your team."

"Trap?"

"The moment you walked into the door, every member of your team outside was Stunned and taken to the Courtrooms as well. My job is to Stun you so that I can take you down there and have you publically executed in front of your friends."

"So, you just told me your entire plan." Harry said in confusion.

"I did. It doesn't matter if you know, Potter. I've taken down wizards twice as talented as you. Hell, I took down the werewolf and the shapeshifter at the same time."

Dolohov made his gravest mistake there. The mention of Remus and Tonks suddenly caused Harry to tighten up for a moment. Then, his pupils dilated and his wand flew at speeds that Harry had never cast before.

However, Dolohov earned his role within the Inner Circle of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. He had been Voldemort's most trusted enforcer and assassin for good reason. So despite the fact that Harry pressed forward with an offensive barrage that only the very best could handle, Dolohov not only handle it but managed to counter with quite a few blows of his own.

Casting a Banishing Charm at Kingsley's desk, Harry caused the desk to fly across the room, headed straight for Dolohov. However, Dolohov was too quick. A single spell and the desk exploded into hundreds of pieces that Dolohov then sent back at Harry. It was only with the strongest of Shield Charms that Harry was able to deflect them and even then, a few got through and scratched Harry's arms and face. Still, Dolohov hadn't been anticipating Harry's survival and wasn't ready and when Harry hit Dolohov himself with a Banishing Charm.

For a brief second, the very surprised Dolohov hung in the air before being thrown backwards through the wall behind him. Thankfully, it was towards the end of the work day and the office adjacent to the Minister's was empty. With Dolohov down, Harry took the opportunity to press his advantage.

A Bludgeoning Hex hit Dolohov directly in the stomach. The effect was likely a very large person jumping on your stomach from a second floor window. Instantly, Dolohov double over, grasping at his midsection in obvious pain. Quickly, Harry levitated Dolohov before again tossing him through the wall behind him.

Unfortunately for Harry, he had gotten lax and assumed that he had won. Instead, the moment that Dolohov was through the wall, Harry heard the cry of a most familiar spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

While the spell didn't hit Harry dead on, it was close enough to do the job, causing Harry's wand to fly out of his hand and away from the fight. At that point, Harry had two options. He could have run back to get his wand and ended up hiding from Dolohov for a moment.

Or he could go with the more insane option.

As Dolohov got to his feet, Harry charged him, plowing into his midsection before lifting him off the floor and slamming him into the wall behind him. Dolohov attempted to raise his wand to defend himself but Harry was too quick, grabbing the wand and throwing it across the room.

From then on, it was a one-on-one fight between a young former Auror and an older Death Eater who had never been in a real fight his entire life. While Harry had never used his fists, he had certainly done his fair share of blocking them and for the sake of this fight, that would be enough.

Every single time that Dolohov attempted to throw any kind of punch, Harry was able to dodge it and counter with another shot to his midsection. As time went on, every punch that Harry threw started to stun the older man, leaving him vulnerable to even more vicious attacks from Harry.

Finally, Dolohov collapsed to the floor and for the briefest of moments, Harry thought that he had won. That was until he saw Dolohov reach into his pocket and grab a back-up wand. Lifting his head off the ground weakly, Harry saw the words for the Killing Curse start to formulate in his mouth.

So Harry did the only thing he could think of: he jumped on top of Dolohov's back and grabbed Dolohov's back-up wand. Now, he had a wand and top position. But unfortunately, Dolohov managed to have one last trick literally up his sleeve. Suddenly, Harry felt a knife pierce his leg, causing blood to flow freely from the wound.

Finally, Harry had had enough. Standing and getting clear of the knife, Harry Conjured a rope that tied tightly around the former Death Eater.

It was done. However, as Harry turned to leave, he heard Dolohov from behind him.

"Did you know….they begged for their lives?"

Harry knew that he shouldn't listen. So, he continued walking.

"The werewolf-he….after I disarmed him…...he dropped to his knees and begged…...for his life." Dolohov cackled through the blood forming in his mouth. "So sad…..then, we I…..went to kill him….the fucking shape shifter….jumped in front…..I….wouldn't have killed her….I just wanted the werewolf…...but lucky me,...I got to kill both."

In a flash, Harry turned and twisted his wand. Suddenly, the ropes on Dolohov's body started to constrict. Eventually, Harry could hear the sound of bones breaking as Dolohov cried out in pain.

However, just before Harry would have killed him, he stopped. Slowly, Harry stepped forward, getting eye-to-eye with the levitated wizard.

"You caused me pain, Antonin. I could have killed you for that. Instead, I just made sure that even if you do get out of Azkaban ever again, you won't even be able to walk, let alone harm another human being."

Reaching down, Harry picked up Dolohov's wand, examined it for a moment and then snapped it before his very eyes.

"That wand looked old." Harry growled. "Must have been the first one you got from Ollivander's. It doesn't matter, it's not like you'll ever get to use it again anyway."

"I will kill you, Potter."

"I've broken enough bones in your body to ensure that it will be years before you walk properly again, let alone take on someone with my ability." Harry countered. "Goodbye, Dolohov."

"I promise you, Potter, I will kill you."

As Harry turned to leave, he left Dolohov with a simple message.

"I dare you."

Of course it had to be Courtroom 10. The same one that Harry had been tried for underage magic and the same one that Umbridge had held her trial for those who "stole" their magic.

Of course that's where Malfoy would set himself up. But as Harry walked into the courtroom, Harry wasn't thinking of Fudge or Umbridge. He was thinking of Draco Malfoy who sat in the seat of the Chief Warlock.

The same seat that Albus Dumbledore had once sat.

To his right sat Minister Shacklebolt, tied to a chair and unconscious. Turning to his left, he saw that the two teams had been stunned. Well, most of them had been stunned.

Three members of Dumbledore's Army had fallen. Seamus looked as if he'd bled out and considering the lack of a left arm, that possibility seemed likely. Oliver Wood bore no marks but the recognizable stare of the Killing Curse. Finally, Dean Thomas lay dead, the result of what appeared to be a single puncture to the heart.

Of the rest of the team, only Hermione was awake. Quickly, Harry raced over to her.

"What happened to them?" Harry asked, referring to the deceased.

"Wood and Dean tried to go toe-to-toe with the entire team of Death Eaters that came to capture us. At first, the Death Eaters just seemed interested in capturing us but when the pair of them continued to take out Death Eaters….."

"They decided to put them down." Harry growled, rubbing his eyes in frustration. "What about Seamus?"

"I would imagine a similar story."

"Three people." Harry whispered. "Three people died because of this."

"Only four people need to die, Potter."

Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy leering at him, his sneer recognizable anywhere.

"You focus on Malfoy." Hermione whispered intensely. "You take care of him and get us out of here."

"I will." Harry replied before turning back to Malfoy. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said, Potter. Only four people have to die."

"How so?" Harry asked as he stood in the center of the circle around him.

"If you allow me to kill you, I will release all of your friends."

He had figured that this was the angle that Malfoy was going for. If he could claim that he was the one who had killed the Boy Who Lived, then Pureblood support for his reign of terror would go through the roof. He had become a weaker version of Voldemort, seeking to use propaganda and prestige to encourage those who were weaker and stupider than he was to support his illegal rise to power.

"How can I trust you?"

"I would take the Unbreakable Vow." Malfoy said earnestly. "I have no intention of killing anyone other than you. In fact, I would welcome if Weasley and the Mudblood were around for what's going to happen next. Them being alive and unable to stop me will only make my influence grow."

Suddenly, Malfoy stepped down from the podium and ended up on the same level as Harry, stalking towards him as he spoke.

"To think: I killed Harry Potter, the savior of the magical world. I spared his lackeys as a sign of my good grace. I, Draco Malfoy, the merciful Dark Lord, sacrificed one pathetic half-blood for purebloods everywhere."

"What makes you think that I would give myself up to you?"

"Because I know your weakness, Potter." Malfoy said as he motioned to the door. Suddenly, the room filled with a dozen masked Death Eaters, one for each of the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army. "Your friends are the only family you have and you will do anything to protect them."

"Wouldn't you?" Harry asked abruptly. "Draco, wouldn't you give this all up right now if it meant saving your mother and father?"

"Before, yes." Malfoy admitted. "But now? My parents abandoned me to the Ministry of Magic. They forced me into a lifelong indentured servitude to avoid prison time for choosing the wrong side of the war."

"So if the situation were flipped right now, you would walk out the door?"

"I would." Malfoy replied firmly.

It was startling to hear that come out of Malfoy. For years, the only people that he did seem to care about were his parents. Now? He lacked anyone or anything that he seemed to care about. Now, the steps were clearly pushing in one direction: the desire for power and a lack of love for anyone around him.

He would never have the power that Voldemort possessed but it was clear that Malfoy envisioned himself as some sort of successor to Riddle's Dark Lord moniker.

Harry had tried sympathizing with Malfoy before and found that he simply did not know how to do it. Instead, Harry knew the one way that he could push Malfoy in the direction that he wanted: pressing his ego.

"So, your plan is to execute me and then take over the Ministry?"

"Eventually, I am smart enough to realize that we will not have the support to take control yet but over time, I will have control."

"Maybe." Harry said, as he started pacing in front of Malfoy. "That is if you can gain the loyalty of all the recruits."

"And what makes you think I can't maintain their loyalty?" Malfoy asked.

"Because you will lack any visible power." Harry replied. "Your soldiers see me as I am right now. Dolohov beat me. I am tired, bloody and completely unprepared for a fight. They see that I'm weak. But rather than try and take me down yourself, you simply order me to lay down my wand and allow you to kill me."

"What is the problem with that?"

"It shows that you're afraid of me." Harry said as he waved his wand in the air, which caused Malfoy to tense up instantly. "You could take me down with one flick of your wand. Instead, you force me to lay my wand down."

"I won't be baited, Potter." Malfoy drawled. "Even with your injuries with both know that you are likely more talented than I am."

"And you expect these people to follow you?" Harry said with a dark laugh.

"Why wouldn't they? I have influence, I will have defeated Harry Potter and within a few months, my monetary wealth will eclipse what my family had prior to the war."

"Do you think that really matters?" Harry replied. "Voldemort had no money, no social influence within civilized society to speak of and had never actually defeated me. Yet people followed him in droves." Suddenly, Harry turned and got to within inches of Malfoy's face. "Do you know why?"

"Enlighten me." Malfoy snapped.

"Because they feared him. They knew that despite everything, if they failed, he would disintegrate them with just a look."

"The Dark Lord couldn't have done that with his eyes." Malfoy countered.

"But that's not what the stories said. They created myths about him, legends even! What will they say about you? Oh, he was a fantastic political operative but who did he beat? When people challenged him, how did he deal with it? And the answer will be simple, Draco. The answer will be that he beat no one. How did he deal with it? He ran from it. Like a coward."

"That's enough!" Malfoy replied, wand suddenly directed towards Hermione. "You think that you can bait me but you can't, Potter."

"Can't I?" Harry asked lowly, stepping towards him. "I'll admit, Draco, you know my weaknesses. But I also know yours."

"Oh really?" Malfoy asked snidely, dropping his wand. "And what are they?"

"Your desire to be remembered. Your fear of being forgotten. Ultimately, the knowledge that the world will always regard you as second rate, never as good as the Mudblood who will one day be Minister of Magic or the half-blood who saved the world."

The look on Malfoy's face was priceless. In fact, if Harry had a camera and only photo to take, this would have been the photo he would have taken.

"Years ago, you were the one that baited me. You were wonderful at it, really. Potter, the orphan. Potter, the unloved. Potter, the insane. Potter, the liar." Harry said with a smirk. "Back then, I lacked control or restraint. Every time you said something, I fell for your trap. Every. Single. Time. Then, something happened. I came to a realization, Draco."

"And what was that?" Malfoy asked.

"That I had everything that you wanted." Harry said with a smile. "What is it that you want, Draco? Money? I had it. Influence? I had more influence than you ever dreamed of without even trying. A family who loved you? My family accepts me for who I am, not who they think I should be."

"You have no family, Potter!" Malfoy growled, drawing his wand on Harry. "You are an orphan, alone in the world."

Placing a single finger on Draco's wand, Harry stepped closer, pushing it to the side.

"I used to think that. But over the last year, I've been reminded that just because you may not share blood doesn't mean that you aren't family. Every person that's here today is here because they believe in me. Even if I appeared weak or fragile in front of you, they would never abandon me. Can you say the same about your goons?"

The look on Malfoy's face told Harry everything he needed to know.

"If you think that you can control your people without giving me a fair shot, then take your chance." Harry said, placing his arms out wide and indicating his surrender. "But, if you think there's a fraction of a chance that you will lose these people without some sort of display of power, then let's do this."

Seconds passed as Malfoy stood still in the center of the courtroom. The only spectators were Hermione and the rest of Malfoy's Death Eaters. Finally, Draco raised his wand in front of his face and then bowed.

With a smirk, Harry followed suit, bowing before his longtime rival. Turning, each of them took their ten paces to get to their starting points. Once they reached their spots, they turned and drew their wands. For years, Harry had secretly wondered which of the two of them would win in a duel.

Now, even with Harry a little worse for the wear, they would finally know.

Draco struck first with a Cruciatus Curse that brought Harry to his knees. Thankfully, Malfoy's next spell missed Harry entirely as Harry fought to roll out of the way. As Harry stood, he hit Malfoy with a Cutting Curse that hit Malfoy in the arm, spraying blood into the air.

As Malfoy cried out in pain, Harry closed in, firing Stunner after Stunner. As each one hit Malfoy's shields, Draco's response was slower and slower until finally, the last Stunner knocked Malfoy to the ground. He had blocked it but the force of the Stunner had knocked him to the ground. With that advantage, Harry moved in, banishing Malfoy into the podium across the room, splitting it in half with the force of Malfoy's body hitting it.

However, Malfoy wasn't about to give up so easily. Standing, Harry saw the green light of the Killing Curse that he was only barely able to duck under. While on the ground, Harry felt the sting of the Cruciatus Curse once again. This time, Malfoy didn't let up and in fact, pressed further, causing Harry to cry out in pain. Despite the fact that Harry had dealt with this kind of pain before, he had never been as injured as he was now when that happened.

For a moment, the thought of giving in crossed Harry's mind.

But only for a moment.

Because as that thought entered it, it was pushed out by the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Get up, Harry!" she screamed. It was amazing the push of a single voice above everything else could give you. Standing despite the intense pain he was in, Harry pressed his wand against the energy of Malfoy's curse.

Then, with a single flip, Harry released a single wave of magical energy, throwing Malfoy back into the wreckage of the podium he had previously gone through. Spurred on by the sound of Hermione's voice, Harry marched forward towards Malfoy, who had newly inspired look of fear on his face.

Draco fired, Harry blocked.

Draco fired again, Harry blocked again.

The last time that Draco fired, Harry rebounded the curse into Draco's chest before putting his boot on Draco's chest. Leaning down, Harry grabbed Malfoy's wand and tapped his own to it, causing it to go up in flames.

"You're done, Malfoy." Harry said, struggling to stand. "It's over."

"It's only over when they decide it's over." Malfoy answered, pointing at the Death Eaters standing around the room.

"Fair enough." Harry said, removing his foot and turning to the rest of the room. "I'm certain that Aurors are on their way. You can stay and choose to fight me and them or you can put your wands down and remove your masks. Minister Shacklebolt will authorize lethal force on anyone that refuses that offer."

It took a second for anyone to move. But when they did, all twelve Death Eaters dropped their wand and removed their masks, sitting on the ground. As they did, Hermione noticed that her bonds had been destroyed when Malfoy's wand was destroyed. At the same time, all of Dumbledore's Army began to wake up.

Instantly, Hermione raced to Harry, putting her shoulder under his arm to support his weight. Looking around, Harry was glad to see that everyone that was waking up seemed to be alright. Turning around gingerly, Harry spoke to Malfoy.

"You chose the wrong side, Malfoy." Harry said weakly. "You should have simply sacrificed for your family instead of resenting them."

"Stop talking, Potter. I'm done listening." Malfoy said as he remained laying on the floor.

"Fine."

For several minutes, the members of Dumbledore's Army took joy in the fact that they had stopped Malfoy and his band of rebel Death Eaters. Hermione helped Harry heal most of his major wounds as he noticed Ginny standing over next to Malfoy, gently handling her wand at her side.

Noticing this, Harry nodded to Hermione who let him go so that he could go talk to her.

"Leave him be." Harry ordered softly. "He's going to go to Azkaban."

"Until someone else decides they want Death Eaters and then they'll break him out."

"That won't happen, Ginny." Harry said as Malfoy went to say something. A silent Stunner to the face stopped that from happening. "Look, now he can't even taunt you."

"I want to talk to him."

"Why?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because I want to know why he did this."

"You know why."

"That's not a good enough reason, Harry."

"Is there ever a good reason for trying to take over the Ministry?" Harry asked with real concern. "Let it go, Ginny. It's over."

Suddenly, Ginny turned to Harry.

"I know that it's over. It's over for Dean and Seamus and Oliver. It's over for Sirius."

"Ginny, don't."

"It's over for Remus and Dumbledore and Tonks."

Harry noticed that a crowd had formed around them as Ginny's voice had raised in volume. Everyone seemed to be listening intently.

"Ginny, you're missing the point."

"IT'S OVER FOR FRED!" Ginny roared. "This maggot let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Without him, Dumbledore would have lived, the Ministry wouldn't have fallen and we could have defeated Voldemort together, all of us! Because of him, all of those people, my brother included, are dead."

"You're not wrong." George said suddenly as he approached his sister. "Malfoy has done terrible things and for selfish reasons. But that doesn't give us an excuse to be like him. You want to kill him, right?"

"Of course I want to kill him!" Ginny screamed incredulously. "How could I not want to kill him? How could you not want to kill him!?"

Stepping forward, George drew his wand and waved it at Draco, who woke up slowly. Another wave and Draco forcibly sat up, staring at Ginny.

"I do want to kill him." George admitted. "He's a Death Eater. He's got the Mark to prove it. But Harry was right. We have to be better than them."

"Why? Why not be like them? Just this once."

"It won't be just this once." Hermione replied. "If you sink to that level, there's no coming back from it."

"Trust me, I know." Harry added.

Slowly, the realization of what they were saying dawned on Ginny's face. First, her head dropped in place. Then, the sobs started as she shook with tears. George stepped forward and placed his arms around her, followed quickly by Ron.

For a few seconds, the members of the Weasley family enjoyed a small moment of reprieve. Then, Draco Malfoy opened his mouth.

"Can you blood traitors hurry this along?"

From inside the bottom of the Weasley hug, Hermione felt a rage pulse. Suddenly, Ginny pushed George and Ron off of her and whipped her wand in a circle. At first, it appeared that she had just lashed out in a rage.

But then, Hermione noticed the small line on Malfoy's neck. Then, with just a slight tug of gravity, the head of Draco Malfoy slipped to the floor, followed shortly by the rest of his body.

Then, everything happened at once. George, with a sad look in his eyes, raised his wand and Stunned his sister. At the same time, Aurors, led by a resurgent Minister Shacklebolt, burst into the room, ready to take Malfoy into custody.

But the thing that Hermione noticed the most was Harry Potter. With the saddest look that she could have imagined, Harry grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her to face him and kissed her gently. For a moment, the world was at peace as Harry finally kissed her.

Then, he pulled away and looked her in the eye.

"Care to dance?"

After that, Harry took a step back and after giving her one final knowing look, turned on the spot and Disapparated away from the Ministry.


	27. Chapter 27

The next month passed quickly for some. Ginny Weasley was taken from the Ministry and placed under observation within the bowels of Azkaban Prison. The trial for her murder of Draco Malfoy was slated to begin this very day. The general population supported Ginny but Hermione knew that it was unlikely that she was going to walk away unscathed.

In fact, the most common sentence that most people believe she would get was to be remanded to Azkaban with a yearly screening of her mental health. Even those that wanted to convict Ginny acknowledged that her actions were largely the result of a person who had not dealt with the grief of losing a loved one properly and that throwing her in jail for the rest of her life was likely not the most productive punishment for her actions.

In the last week, Kingsley Shacklebolt had announced his intention to end his time as Minister of Magic. Currently, his exit plan involved him vacating his seat on September 1, 2000. That left a little over a year to make plans to elect someone else to the position. According to polls taken by both the Ministry and the Daily Prophet, if Hermione Granger ran, she would win. Her popularity was intensely high due to the perception that she had pushed the Blood Equality Act into law, something that had been signed a week earlier. That action, coupled with her already high celebrity status and friendship with Harry Potter, meant that there was no one who could have competed with her.

However, that hadn't stopped some from trying. Amos Diggory had already announced his intention to run for the position. Even with the possible negative press surrounding the situation with his sister, Percy Weasley had also joined the race. Currently, Amos held was expected to win in a close race if Hermione didn't join the fray.

Right now, Hermione Granger wasn't interested in joining anything. When Harry had gotten his memories back, it seemed that their lives were finally back on track. They knew who they were and they knew who their enemies were. It was the simplest their lives had been since Harry found out about the first Prophecy made about him.

But now, no one had seen Harry Potter for longer than a few moments since the incident at the Ministry. There were of course rumors, random sightings that placed him a number of different places within the British Isles. Personally, Hermione didn't know what to make of them. It wouldn't be unlike Harry to hide in plain sight, using his exceptional skill to mask his presence while lettting Hermione know that he was still out there.

"Care to dance?"

Harry's last words to her before he disappeared remained a mystery. Almost every night, those words floated through her head, causing her to wake with a start. She searched her apartment in vain, knowing that Harry wouldn't return like that.

So, without her best friend by her side, Hermione drifted through life. She showed up at work and did her job, albeit without any sort of passion or inspiration. She made the occasional effort to see George and Ron.

She even visited Ginny at Azkaban once.

But for the most part, Hermione simply floated through time, waiting for Harry to return. She knew that she was being foolish. Harry had promised her that he wouldn't leave her again.

He wouldn't break that promise.

Plus, Harry's final words had seemed like some sort of code, a message meant only for her. It wasn't a goodbye. She spent much of her time trying to translate the code, thinking that maybe the words in another language or order would mean something.

Unfortunately, for one month, Hermione found nothing.

That is until the day that she came home and found a music box on her coffee table. Wand drawn, she approached the box, lifting the lid. Inside was a picture of her and Harry, taken sometime during their sixth year.

They looked happy.

For a few moments, she simply stared at the picture before she began to notice the song.

"That song." Hermione muttered to herself. "Where have I heard that song?"

Then, as if out of nowhere, it hit her like a Beater smashing a Bludger.

"The woods."

With a spin, Hermione Apparated from the center of her apartment to the woods where Harry and Hermione had escaped to after Ron had left them. She smiled when she saw that the tent they had taken on the trip was set up there. Taking a step inside, she noticed that the tent appeared to be lived in.

This was where Harry had gone.

The moment she stepped inside, a letter, flying at her in the shape of an otter, unfolded before her. Marveling at the specificity of this magic, she took the letter and began to read.

Hermione,

I hope you read this soon. I didn't want anyone other than you to find me so the clue that I gave you was I thought only you could figure out.

You'll notice that I'm not here. That's because I'm not ready yet, Hermione. I thought once we beat Malfoy that things could go back to normal. But Ginny's actions changed that. For once, I don't blame myself for the entirety of her actions. I know that Ginny is ultimately the one responsible. But, like always, I felt that there was more that I could do.

I didn't want to slip back into the same habits that I had before we started this task force. So, I've been clearing my head. The reports are right, I have been slipping back in London on occasion just to keep tabs on things. I don't want to have to catch up again when I do come back.

I can't promise that I know when I'll return. I'm feeling more at ease than ever before and I don't want to risk that by coming back prematurely. This is a final step in my ability to figure out who I am after Lord Voldemort.

Just so you know, I haven't forgotten about what happened between us. I am very much looking forward to finishing that discussion.

I hope to see you soon.

Love,

Harry

May 2, 2000

As expected, there was another ceremony celebrating two years since the end of open war among the magical population of Great Britain.

Unexpectedly, it appeared to be the second consecutive occasion without Harry Potter. While Hermione had seen Harry a few times in the nearly six months since Draco Malfoy's death, it hadn't been for any longer than a few minutes. Each and every day, she wondered if this was the life that Harry was going to lead for the remainder of his life.

She couldn't have blamed him if it was.

The ceremony was relatively simply. There would be a dedication to the charming of the ceiling of the new Great Hall. It had taken two years and someone of the best witches and wizards in the world (Hermione included) to pull it off but the enchanted ceiling had made its official return earlier in the day.

Following that, Hermione and Ron would speak and thank everyone for their continued support of the Ministry as they continued to work at putting the lives of normal people back together.

It was short speech that the pair of them had given nearly a dozen times since Harry had decided to stop making public appearances.

Then, the keynote speaker, who would give a small speech on the events of the Battle and then begin the celebratory festivities, would speak. Hermione hadn't paid any attention to who it would be this year and wasn't surprised when Minerva McGonagall stepped up to the podium.

"We have heard from some of the best and brightest at these ceremonies." Minerva said with a smile. "I am glad to continue that tradition. However, I am too old and too tired to give anymore pompous speeches. So, I thought that I would turn it over to someone who's a little newer to the public speaking game."

Suddenly, a pit formed in Hermione's stomach as she realized who she was talking about.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva started as Harry Apparated to a spot next to her. "I believe it is your turn to speak."

In an instant, the entirety of the crowd stood for applause as Harry turned and waved at the crowd. For nearly a full two minutes, Harry stood and smiled uncomfortably as the crowd lost its collective mind. Eventually, he turned back and walked to Hermione, placing the lightest of kisses on her cheek.

"I guess I'm back."

"I'd say so." Hermione replied, fighting back tears. "I thought you hated speaking at these things?"

"I didn't have anything to say before." Harry admitted.

"And now?"

"Now, you'll have to tell me if I had anything so say."

With that, Harry turned back around and stepped up to the podium and urged the crowd to quiet down. Hermione had been right, Harry did really detest speaking at these kind of things. However, he knew that what he had to say today was important. If not to everyone, than to some.

"Thank you." Harry started gently before clearing his throat. "As most of you know, I've had a bit of a rough go of it over the last year."

A light smattering of laughter echoed over the crowd at that remark.

"Thanks for that." Harry chuckled before continuing on. "Part of the reason why I had been struggling as much as I had was the guilt that I felt for my part in the war. I felt that I was complicit in the deaths of so many loved ones here two years ago. I felt that if only I had been faster, if only I had worked harder, then no one would have died."

Looking down, Harry locked his line of sight on the Weasleys in front of them, who had left an empty chair next to George. It was their own personal memorial for their fallen brother.

"But unfortunately, that's not the way the world works." Harry said grimly. "When there is evil in the world, there are two ways to approach it. You can lay down and let it win….or you can stand up and fight."

Slightly, Harry turned back to Hermione who smiled at him brightly.

"That's what we did." Harry whispered. "That's what we all did. We stood up and told Voldemort that we would not lay down in front of him. Even in the face of death itself, we stood shoulder to shoulder and dared him to break us. He tried. He did everything in his power to break us down and separate us. But he failed. When the smoke cleared, the wall was damaged but not broken."

Looking out over the crowd, Harry saw the faceless monument that he had disparaged two years earlier. Now, it spoke volumes.

"The last time I spoke here, I had yet to deal with my guilt and my grief and I spoke out of turn. Time heals all wounds if you are willing to be healed. While my wounds are not yet fully healed, I have allowed love and friendship back into my life and they have made the greatest of differences in that healing process. Now, I look at that statue: the faceless soldier. Before, I thought it was a foolish sentiment. Now, I realize just how important it is. We can't honor every person that fell to Lord Voldemort with a statue. Instead, we honor all of them with one. When that statue was built, it was intended to honor the lives lost here at the Battle of Hogwarts."

Finally, the tears that Harry had fought for two years, for ten years, for twenty years, began to fall. He had been too young to mourn for the loss his parents in any true way. He didn't remember them and didn't remember the sacrifice they had made for him. But now he understood.

"I see my parents in that statue. They saved me by giving their lives to Lord Voldemort. I see Cedric Diggory, Sirius Black. I see Amelia Bones and Albus Dumbledore. I see Dobby, the free elf. But even more, I see Fred Weasley. I see Nymphadora Tonks. I see Remus Lupin."

Looking down, Harry saw Andromeda holding little Teddy Lupin in her lap. It was the first time he had seen his godson in well over a year. He already looked so much like Tonks, his hair currently a red that would have tricked anyone into thinking he was a Weasley.

He met Andromeda's gaze for a moment, asking permission to continue. A short nod was all he needed.

"These are the deaths from the Battle that hurt me the most. The Weasleys effectively adopted myself and Hermione into their family the moment I asked them how to board the Hogwarts Express. Each summer, I spent a significant amount of time at the Burrow, their wonderful home. They treated me like a son and a brother and I look at them as if they are my own flesh and blood, despite having no real family left in the world."

Harry looked away, knowing that he need to continue but also know that he couldn't meet the eyes of his family.

"Fred Weasley was my brother." Harry said, fighting through the tears that were now freely falling. "And if Fred was my brother, then Remus was one of the closest things to a father that I knew. He was one of my father's best friends and while he wasn't my godfather, he loved me like one of his own. He even named me godfather to his only child."

Another look showed that Teddy's hair was now jet black, a mirror of the man he was looking at on the stage.

"Remus was a werewolf. In the eyes of society, he was a menace, a blight. But in the eyes of those that loved him, he was the kindest man most of us ever had the pleasure of meeting. He fought injustice with an iron fist but loved with the softest of hearts. His wife, Tonks, was about as opposite as you could have imagined. She was bubbly, sometimes childish and always the prankster, a mentor of sorts to the young Weasley twins. If you looked at the pair of them, you couldn't have imagined them together and yet…...and yet, it worked. They loved each other fiercely, always seeking to protect each other from savagery of the world."

Finally, Harry had to brace himself against the podium in front of him. As Harry sobbed, he felt the warmth of a hand on his back. Turning his saw Hermione standing behind him, silently urging him to continue. They both knew that this speech was two years in the making, something that he had needed to say but couldn't figure out how.

"They shouldn't have even been here." Harry said, looking at Hermione intensely. "They had a newborn. They should have stayed home. But they believed in me and they believed in the mission that I had set out to compete. So, when the call came for the Order of the Phoenix, they answered the call. They answered that call because they loved each other intensely. They died together because they loved each intensely. When Remus was beaten by Antonin Dolohov, he pleaded for the life of his wife. Instead, Tonks gave hers, jumping in front of a curse meant for him. Dolohov then kill Lupin anyway."

"Love makes you do stupid things like that. But without that love, we would all be no better than Lord Voldemort himself. That's what I see when I see that statue. It allows me to see the love that those people had: for me, for each other and for the world they lived in. It was that love that allowed me to succeed. George," Harry looked down at Fred's twin. "He loved you. All of you. Andromeda and little Teddy, they loved you. Without you, their lives, and their deaths, would have meant nothing. Without you, my life and our success would have meant nothing. Without you, I have no idea who I would be but with you, I do."

Finally, Harry turned back to Hermione and kissed her again.

"I love you."

"I love you." she whispered in return.

Smiling, Harry turned back to the crowd.

"In the end, love and family: it's all we have. Let that love be the light that keeps the darkness at bay."

September 1, 2000

"Slytherin!"

Once again, the house closest to the far wall cheered as another student joined their ranks. Harry smirked from his location at the Head Table as he watched the young girl who had just been sorted join her new classmates. She may have been sorted in Slytherin but Harry had to be happy for her: she was starting an experience that would change her life.

Looking up, Harry was glad to see that the stars were shining bright inside the newly re-enchanted Great Hall. It was one of the clearest nights that Harry could remember and so even if it was simply a reflection of the image outside, it was amazing.

"Gryffindor!"

A small boy leapt from the stool where he had previously sat and raced down to one of the central tables, one of that Harry was intimately familiar with. As Harry watched the boy, Minerva leaned over to him.

"How does it feel to watch from the other side, Potter?"

"I can't explain it." Harry admitted. "It's like watching your childhood."

"I hope these students have a very different childhood from your own."

"Same here." Harry grinned. "It has to be different the longer you see it from this perspective. Does that feeling go away."

"No." Minerva said with a wry smile. "In fact, the longer I do this, the more that unexplainable feeling gets me."

With one final "Ravenclaw!," the Sorting Hat finished and was removed from the hall by an ancient looking Mr. Filch. Apparently, the war had not been good for him. Seeing this as her time to speak, Minerva stood.

"Good evening, one and all, and welcome to what is sure to be another wonderful year at Hogwarts School of Magic."

The name change had been a collaboration between Harry and Angelina. Both of them felt that by isolating witches and wizards, the name of the school itself encouraged separation. By simply stating that they were there to teach magic, they hoped it would convey an encouraging and collaborative spirit.

"Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that once again, all Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products are forbidden on school grounds." Minerva said, although Harry thought he saw the smallest of smirks at the corner of her mouth. "Quidditch captains will post their tryout times within the week. As always, no students are to be out of bed after curfew and the Forbidden Forest is, of course, forbidden."

Finally, Minerva turned to Harry.

"In conclusion, I am proud to introduce our new staff members. Taking over for the recently retired Professor Slughorn will be Angelina Johnson, former Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Healer at St. Mungo's."

There was a period of polite applause as Angelina gave a short bow before returning to her seat at the far end of the table.

"Sarah Fawcett has been added to the staff as an Apprentice Professor, teaching first and second year charms. Sarah belonged to Ravenclaw House, was a member of the Dueling Club and had some of the highest marks in her class."

Sarah neglected to stand at the mention of her name. Instead, she simply waved a hand at the students in front of her, especially towards some of the older Ravenclaw students that she had been in school with.

"Madam Hooch has finally retired from her post as Flying Instructor. Zacharias Smith has graciously joined us to fill the position."

Harry rolled his eyes as Zacharias stood and waved joylessly for a moment before returning to his seat. Only someone with such a lack of joy in their heart could appear to be so lifeless while teaching children how to fly.

"Our next new hire is one of the greatest feats I've managed to pull in my many years at Hogwarts. Taking over for Rebeus Hagrid, who has retired from his duties as a professor, will be Luna Lovegood, the world renowned magizoologist as our new teacher for Care of Magical Creatures."

Sitting at the far end of the table across from the Ravenclaw table, Luna stood and gave a dramatic bow before turning to Harry and giving him a small wink. In truth, having Luna on board at Hogwarts was part of the reason why he was so excited for the start of the coming term.

"Finally, as I mentioned at the end of last year, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Penelope Clearwater, has vacated both her positions here and at St. Mungo's to accept a position as the Headmaster at a school for the healing arts in south Spain. This led to a search for a new professor….and a new Headmaster."

Instantly, there was quite a murmur around the room as it seemed that Minerva was announcing her retirement.

"I do not yet know when I will be done at this school. However, I am well aware that day is coming. So, to use the Muggle phrase, I killed two birds with one stone. I am sure you are all familiar with Mr. Potter." Minerva said, a particular lack of irony on the end of her previous sentence. "As far as experience goes, I believe that there is no one that is better suited to teaching you how to defend yourself from those that would seek to harm you than Mr. Potter. However, in addition to being named your new Defense Professor, I have also named Mr. Potter to the position of Deputy Headmaster. As part of Mr. Potter's agreement to take the post, should I vacate my position for any reason, Mr. Potter will automatically be granted my position."

The murmur in the room had grown from a small buzz to a fully blown conversational riot at this point. Rather than wait it out, Minerva raised her wand in the air and fired, creating a loud bang that silenced the room.

"I tell you this so that you understand that Mr. Potter is the future of this school. For those of you that may one day wish to be hired here, consider your actions in his classroom. For those of you who will be here for the next five to seven years, I suggest that you ensure that your behavior in his room is impeccable as he will one day shortly be the one deciding on whether you become a Prefect or Head Boy or Girl."

"But mostly, I tell you this because I believe that Mr. Potter has an overwhelming wealth of knowledge to share with us. Wasting his time only deprives you of the chance to learn from the greatest wizard of his generation."

To say that Harry was speechless was to be an understatement. Standing, Harry turned to Minerva and embraced her tightly, something that was quickly returned by the elder witch.

"Thank you for this, Minerva."

"Don't make me regret this, Potter." Minerva cackled softly. "I just put quite a weight on your shoulders."

"For the first time in a long time, I think I'm actually ready for it."

"I should hope so." Minerva said before turning back to the rest of the students. "Now, as my dear friend Albus used to say: tuck in!"

As always, the opening feast was a joyous affair, filling with the laughter of children and the chuckles of the adults at the far end of the room, who watched the new students with envy.

Each of every one of them wished they could go back to that first day they had experienced the joy of Hogwarts. It was a magic unlike any other they were likely to experience.

However, as Harry watched the festivities in front of him, he couldn't help but feel happier than he had in years. A new policy set forth by Minerva to encourage professors to have a normal family life meant that Harry got to return to London each weekend to see Hermione. While their relationship was by no means perfect, she made Harry happier than he could ever remember being.

For the first time in his life, Harry was truly content. He knew that he was loved and that there were those that he loved.

For the first time in his life, Harry James Potter didn't have to wonder who he was or how he fit into the world.

Instead, for the first time in Harry's life, all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of two stories in this series, both of which were originally posted on FanFiction. I'll be posting the second story as well as another HP story I've written since then soon.
> 
> Mr. Z


End file.
